


Legolas in Esgaroth

by ziggy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziggy/pseuds/ziggy
Summary: The story of Esgaroth in which Legolas disgraces himself and the Wood, but enjoys himself immensely.‘She is but sixteen years,’ Thalos said, pacing up and down Laersul’s well ordered and spartan office. ‘I thought her well of age for she looked at least that, and she was all over Legolas from the start.’ It was the younger daughter of the Master of Esgaroth of whom they spoke for the elder daughter had certainly been otherwise engaged.  With Anglach.‘Sixteen!’ Laersul rubbed a hand over his face in horror. Not even of proper age for a Man. It was hard for Elves to comprehend how a sixteen year old child could even have sexual awareness.‘That is not the worst of it.’ Thalos stopped his pacing and turned his face towards his older brother. He paused and shook his head as if he could not quite believe it. Then he looked up at Laersul with sombre disapproval. ’It was not only the daughter,’ he said. ‘But the mother as well.’
Comments: 105
Kudos: 45





	1. In the Wood

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Naledi’s birthday. She begged unashamedly some time ago. Just a bit of fun.  
> Unbeta’d.
> 
> This is the story of Legolas’ disgrace in Esgaroth, which I have referenced once or twice in other fics, and the events that led to it. Prequel to Black Arrow. It takes place well before the Dragon arrives in Erebor.
> 
> Chapter 5: explicit het sex.
> 
> (One detail I have changed is that I have made Silanath a lot older so she gets a cameo in this…And Alfred’s great grandafther appears- he was such a great character in the films!)
> 
> Canon characters:  
> Legolas  
> Thranduil  
> Galion
> 
> OCs  
> Laersul- Thranduil’s oldest son  
> Thalos- Middle son  
> Anglach - Legolas’ best friend and almost foster-son of Thranduil  
> Galadhon- a captain of the Woodland Realm and Thalos’ best friend.  
> Silaneth- Sister of Galadhon (Thalos’ best friend). She is a bit older in  
> this fic than in Black Arrow  
> Ceredir- a captain of the Woodland Realm  
> Naurion- contemporary of Legolas and Anglach. Another warrior.

Legolas in Esgaroth

‘She is but sixteen years,’ Thalos said, pacing up and down Laersul’s well ordered and spartan office. ‘I thought her well of age for she looked at least that, and she was all over Legolas from the start.’ It was the younger daughter of the Master of Esgaroth of whom they spoke for the elder daughter had certainly been otherwise engaged. With Anglach.

‘Sixteen!’ Laersul rubbed a hand over his face in horror. Not even of proper age for a Man. It was hard for Elves to comprehend how a sixteen year old child could even have sexual awareness. 

‘That is not the worst of it.’ Thalos stopped his pacing and turned his face towards his older brother. He paused and shook his head as if he could not quite believe it. Then he looked up at Laersul with sombre disapproval. ’It was not only the daughter,’ he said. ‘But the mother as well.’

Laersul froze. He could not believe his ears. He felt a surge of irritation, that bubbled and swelled into anger such as he only felt when the Shadow had done something particularly unkind or cruel. 

He shoved his chair back and leapt to his feet, leaning forward with his knuckles on his desk. ‘Tell me,’ he growled, looking at his brother. 

0o0o

A week earlier.

A Man on a horse had appeared along the Celon-mên, the road that ran alongside the river. He was not the usual trader, but a well dressed merchant on a well fed horse. The horse was short-legged and strong, its coat gleamed and the Man’s cloak was thick and warm and his boots were polished. 

Anglach stared at the Man’s silver beard and silver hair cut short to his collar. He could not help it. It was strange enough that Men and Dwarves had such hair but that a Man had such an unusual colour was fascinating.

‘Do you think he is very high-born to have silver hair?’ he whispered to Legolas.

Legolas shrugged. ‘I do not know. Perhaps. Although Lathron has silver hair and that is because he is Unborn. One of the First.

‘What is a Man doing here so close to the stronghold?’ asked Naurion, knocking an arrow but holding it loosely for there were friendly relations between the Men of Laketown and Dale and the Elves of the Wood.

‘Hold for a moment, Naurion,’ said Ceredir holding up a hand. He was the leader of the small group that patrolled the road that led between the Hills of Mirkwood and Esgaroth. Ceredir had recently returned from a long stint in the East Bite and the fact that he had been given the two silliest warriors in Mirkwood for this patrol said much for his patience and the regard with which his superiors held him. He had complained about having both Legolas AND Anglach at first but he had been pleasantly surprised; his companions' good humour was well known but they had combined that with very careful surveillance of the forest. After all, it was Legolas who had first tracked the spider that led them to the colony skulking near the edge of a settlement, and it was Anglach that Ceredir intended to mention favourably in his report for bravery, when they saw the Man ahead.

‘Shall I talk to him?’ Anglach said excitedly. ‘I have been practising my Westron and I am sure I can find out what he is doing.’ He was readying himself to drop down from the trees in front of the Man but Ceredir stopped him in alarm.

‘Legolas, you go,’ he said with a jerk of his head. Legolas grinned triumphantly at Anglach and slid down the tree to step out onto the path.

Anglach hopped about in the tall oak like an agitated robin whilst Legolas spoke to the silver-haired Man until at last Legolas put his fingers to his lips and blew a low whistle that indicated all was well.

‘You stay up here with me,’ Ceredir said to Naurion. ‘We will follow behind and check that no one is following or that he has no malicious intent. Anglach, go and join Legolas. Take the Man to the stronghold and don’t…’ He sighed as if doubt had seized him and was counselling him to better judgment. ‘Don’t do anything… that might…’ He looked at Anglach’s face, eyes wide with excitement. ‘I don’t suppose anything can go wrong between here and the stronghold,’ he said doubtfully. But Anglach was already sliding through the branches and soon he was on the path, trotting towards the Man.

Grinning, Anglach called to Legolas. ‘Ceredir has told me to help you, Legolas. Obviously he recognises that the poor Man will not be able to understand the snorts and grunts of your goblin-speak and will think he has stumbled on the Great Goblin’s lost child.’ 

Legolas rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation. ‘Well let us hope he is fluent in Warg for he may understand you then.’

Anglach gave the Man a slight bow. ‘Good Eve, master,’ he said, though it was midday and the sun high. ‘He is a girl and the cat is in the tree.’

Legolas sighed loudly and said something to the Man, who looked confused and frowned anxiously. Then the Man said something back to Anglach, and then turned back to Legolas and spoke for a bit longer. Anglach listened hard. ‘No, I cannot understand you,’ he said loudly and slowly. He glanced at Legolas. ‘Do you think he is an idiot?’ he whispered to Legolas, tapping the side of his head.

‘No. He is not the idiot,’ Legolas said pointedly but Anglach ignored that. ‘He is called Borlas. He owns a barge that he takes down the Celduin to the Sea of Rhun and trades in Dorwinion.’

Anglach looked back at the Man and gestured that he was friendly and not at all threatening, by grinning widely and rattling the arrows in his quiver to show how few there were. Borlas looked uncertain so Anglach grinned even more widely, showing his teeth.

‘Anglach, stop grinning. You are frightening him.’ Legolas said. And then, ‘He has come on behalf of the Master of Esgaroth and wants to talk about trade routes and stuff.’ Legolas pulled a wry smile. ‘I don’t think the King will be very happy. It sounds as if they want to change the terms or something.’

Anglach tutted. ‘That all sounds very boring,’ he said. ‘It’s a good thing he has brought some Dorwinion, as I assume that to be.’ He nodded towards a number of leather covered bottles slung over the sides of Borlas’ short-legged and strong looking horse. ‘That will put the King in a good mood at least.’ Anglach smiled, for he had often seen Thranduil grow merry at feasts when Galion served it. He patted the horse and led it along the path whilst Legolas walked alongside Borlas, chatting politely. As they wound their way between the trees, Legolas pointed at things and Borlas nodded and their heads leaned together a little as they talked.

They led Borlas through the Woods to the great hillside crowned with beech trees whose roots ran into the deep and dark forest river, and whose branches lifted to the sky. They could hear Ceredir and Naurion’s quiet passing above them in the trees but showed no sign until at last they came to the two great breeches that stood either side that marked the beginning, or the end, of the Celon-mên, and the beginning, or the end, of the entrance, or exit, to the stronghold.

Here Ceredir and Naurion descended from the trees and if Borlas was surprised, he did not show it. The horse merely swished its tail at an imaginary fly and butted its head softly against Anglach.

They crossed the bridge and the doors opened silently at Legolas’ secret command. Borlas stared up at the tall bronze doors, sculpted with vines and deer and hares and birds that looked like they might leap out of the doors at any moment and dart off into the forest. Into the hillside they went, and along the slender arching walkways, beside the silvery streams of waterfalls lit by rushlights and the glitter of quartz and precious gems. 

They knew that a message would have reached the King and they would be expected to bring their guest to the magnificent throne room. Anglach loved the throne room. It wasn’t used very much. Only when Thranduil wished to impress and intimidate. It was a high roofed chamber of fluting columns of stalagmites and curtains of rose-green limestone behind which silvery waterfalls cascaded. The throne was carved from the ancient oack that had been blasted by lightning many years before Anglach was born. It curved above and over Thranduil protectively, as if the Wood itself was present and lent him its authority. The throne stood on a natural dias and wide shallow steps had been carved into it so that anyone approaching the throne had to do so slowly and with their head bent in case they tripped up the shallow steps. There were veins of glittering quartz in the walls that caught in the flames of the rushlights and firebowls. The bronze doors swung slowly open and Legolas and Anglach stood sharply to attention whilst Ceredir preceded Borlas into the chamber and Naurion followed.

Thranduil was seated regally upon the high throne, its lightning-blasted wood curved over him like stag’s antlers. He wore a cloak of dark blue velvet lined with silver wolf-fur and upon his golden head, was a crown of oak leaves. Anglach sighed. The King was Great and Good and looked very impressive, he thought. Thranduil’s imperious gaze flickered over the faces of his court, narrowed slightly at Legolas, rested kindly upon Anglach and then fixed upon the merchant. 

Borlas bowed low and began to speak. Thranduil said something back but Anglach’s Westron was only so good and he stopped trying to follow it and wondered instead why the Master of Esgaoth had not sent a messenger with good Sindarin. At one point, Borlas held out the bottles of Dorwinion and Galion stepped from beside Thranduil’s throne to receive them with eagerness.

Anglach smiled slightly. Galion nursed the bottles like they were babies and Anglach would have been unsurprised if he had crooned to them the way Galion had crooned to the orphaned Anglach and motherless Legolas when they were babes. Thranduil merely glanced at Galion but his look held a warning too that this batch of Dorwinion should not go the way of the last.

Borlas began talking again and Thranduil maintained a silence and a steady gaze ahead. Every now and again, Anglach recognised a word like Eschem, which was the name given to the tax that the Raft Elves had to pay in Esgaroth, and the Rushes, which were the rapids half way along the river. There was an agreement between the Elves and Men about how to keep these free of debris and guarding the lower part of the river from marauding orcs but the new Master had demanded more from the Elves and they were unwilling to pay. This must be what Borlas had come about, thought Anglach.

His nose itched and he really wanted to scratch it but it would not be seemly. And Thranduil would notice and look at him disapprovingly. That would be unbearable, Anglach thought, watching Legolas stifling a yawn opposite him.

Anglach almost sighed. It was very, very boring. They had to stand perfectly still all the time, ready to leap into action if Borlas were to do anything that might threaten the King. Of course Anglach was ready to die for the King, but everyone knew that Thranduil was more than able to take care of himself.

Suddenly Legolas crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out but it was so quick Anglach almost missed it. He had to pretend to sneeze to smother the snort.

Thranduil did not so much as blink but his nostrils flared ever so slightly and his spine stiffened, chin rose so he looked even more imperious. Anglach bit his lip this time in consternation. Legolas twitched. They were for it now. 

0o0o


	2. Duty

Chapter Two. Duty

The meeting between Borlas and Thranduil ended abruptly with no resolution. In the silence that followed the Man’s departure, Thranduil did not explode, he was far too subtle for that. But his anger was palpable. It was unclear what had angered him the most; Anglach’s explosive and undignified snort, Legolas’ silliness that had caused it (for Legolas immediately owned it was his fault) or the tale told by Borlas of the Master of Esgaroth’s woe. It seemed that the tax the King put upon the goods imported from Esgaroth was so high that the Master was almost bankrupt. And the banks of the River were so eroded by the recent floods, which no one in the Wood seemed to know anything about, that the Master had been forced to spend his own meagre (the Master’s words) fortune to shore up the banks and keep the river open for the Elves. 

Anglach pitied the Master if he thought he could fool Thranduil.

‘It will be Thalos he sends to Esgaroth to see if Borlas’ tale is correct,’ Anglach said.

‘It will be Thalos,’ Legolas agreed. ‘But more importantly, I will never be allowed out of the Wood again. Ever. And it won’t be you going with Thalos I am afraid,’ he added gloomily for they had been on Door duty, which was the most boring of duties, ever since Borlas had left. They stared morosely out into the Wood from their guard point. 

Nothing ever happened at the Doors to the stronghold. A few people came and went but most of the Wood-Elves used the Back Gate, which led straight into the stronghold and was less formal (being always open) and guarded, not by warriors, but by the King’s magic. The Doors were also guarded by the King’s magic but there were sentries on the Doors for the sake of appearances. There had been even less traffic than usual and no news at all, for the two who were the subject of news and gossip stood out here on duty, and the most exciting thing that had happened was a squirrel falling out of a tree. But it had chattered at them angrily as if it were their fault and ran off.

‘It is unfair that I should not go,’ Anglach said, yawning. ’After all, it was you who pulled that face. I was trying to be sensible.’

Legolas agreed. ‘I know. I am sorry. I was just bored and thought no one was looking. I should have known my father would notice.’

‘And Ceredir,’ added Anglach helpfully. ‘And Galadhon. And Galion and I think Lord Gilvrast saw you, and Erédis certainly did.’ Neither of them mentioned that it was, in fact, Anglach’s snort that had drawn all eyes towards them. Even Borlas had noticed. For Thranduil had already seen Legolas and all else was insignificant.

Legolas groaned. ‘I don’t know why I did it. I will never be allowed to go to Esgaroth or Dale, or Erebor. Not now. Not ever.’

‘Well, you might be allowed to the edge of the Wood in a hundred years,’ said Anglach, trying to comfort his friend. ‘But certainly not in time to go with Thalos.’

Legolas glanced up and seeing the disappointment in Anglach’s face too ,he paused and then said, because he was at heart, a good friend, ‘I will remind the King again that it was all me and that you had no part in it.’

Anglach gave him a wry look. ’You have already done so and I am grateful. But perhaps you can prostrate yourself at his feet and beg for mercy for me.’ He smiled happily for his trust in Thranduil’s mercy and goodness was absolute. ‘Then if I am chosen to go with Thalos, then I wil make sure I remember everything so I can tell you all about it,’ he said more cheerfully. In his head, Anglach imagined the King’s kindly smile turning upon him and of course, now that they had done their penance, Anglach should be the one to accompany Thalos. After all, the King was saying in Anglach’s besotted mind, he trusted Anglach completely- especially without Legolas to lead him astray. ‘I will buy you something from the Dwarf market,’ he added charitably. ‘Or in the toy market, although it is not as great as the market in Dale, but I hear it is very good.’

‘Perhaps not a toy, Anglach. But a dwarvish dagger will be nice,’ Legolas said as if Anglach’s little besotted daydream might actually happen.

There was the sound of laughter coming along the path and they looked up hopefully. Two girls appeared along the path ahead, carrying a large basket between them that was full of fish. 

‘Naledi!’ called Anglach, and glanced at Legolas with a grin. Naledi’s long hair was pulled into a thick braid and her breasts were pushed up enticingly by the bodice of her green dress. Neither of them looked at her face.

‘You have no chance,’ Legolas murmured to Anglach with a slanted look of challenge. ‘She fancies the breeches off me.’

‘We’ll see. Anyway, that’s Miriel with her,’ Anglach said with a wide grin and waved. ‘She has been madly in love with me forever.’

Miriel gave Naledi a quick sideways smile that might have suggested to anyone else that the girls had chosen this path to ensure they encountered the two young warriors. But if that thought occurred to Legolas or Anglach, it would not have mattered. Legolas gave them both the benefit of his most dazzling smile, the one that Anglach said he practised in the mirror. Miriel flung a coquettish look in Anglach’s direction, and he grinned at her and lounged against the stone wall.

‘Good morning, Miriel,’ he called. ‘You look particularly pretty in that blue dress.’

Legolas trotted along the bridge towards them. ‘Can I help you with that?’ he asked gallantly, indicating the heavy basket. He was carefully looking into Naledi’s eyes when he spoke and Anglach grinned because he could see that Legolas was trying really hard not let his gaze drift down to her breasts, which was where he really wanted to look. 

The girls smiled at each other and put down the basket. Naledi gave a saucy laugh and pulled her long braid over her shoulder. ‘I hope you do not think that the maids of the Wood are weak,’ she said flirtaciously. 

‘Never,’ replied Legolas with a hopeful grin. He leaned down to lift the basket and grunted, straining to lift it because it was very heavy. ‘I would never think that,’ he gasped and staggered towards Anglach with a look of pleading on his face. Anglach ignored it and offered the girls an arm each, which they took and preceded Legolas into the stronghold while Legolas staggered in after them.

‘There is a lot of fish here,’ he managed to gasp out.

‘It is for Galion. He s making fish pie,’ Miriel said.

Anglach glanced back towards Legolas and winced. ‘Oh?’ he said. ‘And it this for anyone in particualr?’

Naledi giggled. She did a lot of that. ‘Galion is making it as a special treat for his two little warriors,’ she said mischeviously. 

Anglach heard Legolas groan and it was not because the basket was heavy. ‘There is a lot of fish here for one fish pie.’

‘He is making a lot of fish pie!’ Miriel said.

‘Oh good,’ Anglach said loyally for he loved Galion and though the fish would be rubbery and either over or undercooked and the mashed potato hard and lumpy, neither he nor Legolas would hurt Galion’s feelings for the world and they would not suffer anyone else to either. He heard Legolas mutter behind him and threw him a censorious look.

‘I am sure it will be lovely,’ Legolas said resigned. He dropped the basket inside the Doors with a relieved sigh. ‘I am sorry I cannot carry it to the kitchen for you,’ he said as if he were genuinely so but Anglach could see the relief on his face. ‘But we would be abandoning our post.’

‘Oh, we would never expect that of you,’ Miriel said and she took one handle and Naledi took the other. They lifted it between them with ease.

‘Would you like me to bring something back from the Esgaroth market?’ Anglach asked Miriel.

She lifted a fine eyebrow and laughed. ‘Oh? You think the King will send the two of you to represent him with the Master of Esgaroth? He is more likely to send his horse I think!’

‘And from what I hear, you are more likely to be cleaning the latrines of the stronghold!’ Naledi added archly. She glanced sideways at Legolas, who had forgotten not to stare at her breasts and his mouth was slightly open and a lustful expression on his face.

Anglach nudged him hard and rolled his eyes. ’Legolas has admitted it was his fault so that the King will choose to send me with Thalos,’ said Anglach confidently.

‘That is good of you,’ Naledi said, standing close to Legolas and looking up at him while he blinked hard and tried to keep his eyes on hers and not her breasts.

‘I am a really good friend,’ said Legolas, almost panting. Anglach reminded himself to tell Legolas to be more dignified in future when he fancied a girl. ‘I am an even better lover,’ he added with a salacious grin.

Anglach groaned inwardly.

‘Not if you stink of the latrines,’ Naledi said straight back at him and she and Miriel giggled as they left, their hips swaying and many a backward glance and giggle.

‘Too much?’ Legolas asked as the girls left.

‘Too much. Too soon,’ Anglach confirmed. ‘With a face like yours, you have to be more careful, more subtle. It is bad enough looking like a small under-fed goblin like you do without having the manners of a Warg.’

0o0o

Thranduil leaned over the map of Rhovanion, holding down one corner with his elbow and the other with his glass goblet. Thalos, his middle son, subtle and clever, had just left. They had been looking at the maps and talking of Esgaroth for Thalos was to go there and although his purpose was to hear the Master’s tale for himself, the King also wanted news. He was restless and kept pulling one map out after another, shifting them around until he had the large map of Rhovanion beneath the detailed map of the Ered Mithrin in the North.

Here be Dragons, read the italic script. He had added that himself when the birds had spoken of them. The little birds first, finches that had migrated south for the winter, and then the corvids who had fled the devastation that had once been the fertile and luscious Gwathra-nand, the lovely valley misted by the many lakes and waterfalls for which it was named. It was the Withered Heath now and no birds sang there anymore. Firedrakes scorched the earth. It would not be long, he thought, before one came south to Erebor.

He would never forget Beleriand; Ancalagon. Glaurung. There was first that absolute silence that dropped over the world. Birds stopped singing and the small mammals, sensing the imensity of the danger, scurried or scrambled deep into burrows and dens. Then the roar, not of the dragon, not yet. But the wind beneath its wings. In the trees. Across the heath and grasslands. 

And then heat. Flames. All encompassing.

He stared for a moment at nothing but the images in his memory; firedrakes roaring over the plains of Beleriand. The sky blocked out by immense wings too huge to comprehend at first and then, nothing but flame, molten fire. Heat blasting, burning, unbearable heat…

He shook himself free of memory and shoved the map away. Drank wine. Not here, he told himself. Not the Wood.

But the Dwarves of Erebor ignored his fears, boasted of their wealth so that there were tales that the river ran with gold. Meanwhile the Elvenking let it be known that there was no great treasure in Mirkwood, they lived on the bounty of the Wood and bargained hard for goods they could not make themselves. At least he hoped to spare his children the horror of dragon fire. And the glamour of Dragons. The magnificence.

Outside his room, there was the sound of breathing. The scuff of a foot on stone.

‘Galion? If you are out there, come in and stop lurking,’ he called irritably.

Immediately the door was flung open and Galion sauntered in, a glass and flagon of wine in one hand. ‘I am not lurking, Thranduil,’ he said with no ceremony whatsoever. ‘I am merely ascertaining if you have company and require more glasses.’ He put the flagon down on the carefully drawn maps and poured a deep red wine into the glass, which he picked up, turning towards the hearth, and drank. Two comfortable chairs were drawn up beside the hearth and the fire crackled and spat. 

‘It’s about time you relented,’ Galion declared, throwing himself carelessly into one of the chairs. He swung one leg over the arm and grinned, watching Thranduil with bright, mischevious eyes. ‘Those boys only did what you and I have done countless times. Remember Oropher when that Man, what was he called….Valindell or something.’ He tutted. ‘I cannot remember. But you did nothing to alert your father of the bird that was hopping over his head, lifted its tail and shat all over him.’ Galion’s green eyes twinkled wickedly. ‘And then there was the incident with Gil-Galad and that Stick-in-the-Mud, Elrond Eärendillion.’ He laughed merrily. ‘Ah. That had you and me cleaning latrines for a month. Or was it mucking out for a month. Ah, but Amdír was a good sort.’

He paused and gulped his wine, with one eye on Thranduil for he prodded at a scab not yet healed when he spoke of Oropher but it seemed the King was preoccupied with his own child.

‘Exactly. A month.’ Thranduil eyed Galion back with resignation rather than disapproval. ‘It taught me many things and you, it seems, nothing.’ He sighed. ‘They have been on Door duty for only three days, Galion. They will learn nothing if it does not hurt a little.’

‘They have been on duty in the South, Thranduil. Do you think they learned nothing there?’ Galion pointed out soberly.

At that, Thranduil looked away. A breath escaped his lips and he bowed his head. ‘You think I do not think of that every moment?’ He shook his head. ‘Dol Guldur grows stronger and the spiders nest closer and closer. I know what they endure in the south, Galion. You need not remind me, for Thalos already has.’

‘Hm. Good for him.’ Galion looked away and then leaned forward and stirred the fire. Black cinders curled upwards and the logs shifted and fell apart, glowing red and black. ‘Give them a little joy while you can,Thranduil. They will return soon enough to the South and will you have them only remember your anger?’

Thranduil glared at him. ‘You are a real pain in the arse sometimes,’ he said uncharacteristically and Galion grinned smugly.

‘So they will go with Thalos?’

‘Yes, they can go with Thalos.’ Thranduil threw up a hand in resignation. ‘But they had better behave themselves or they will think latrines for a month is a reward!’

0o0o


	3. Silaneth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I wrote this bit ages ago, before the later chapters of Black Arrow and Silaneth first emerged here, so Silaneth is a bit out of chronology. But I just can’t bring myself to ditch this little encounter.
> 
> This is unbeta’d as I am keeping Anarithilen for the next Elrohir/Legolas fic which is brewing nicely.
> 
> Short chapter before they get to Esgaroth!

Chapter Three: Silaneth

‘You have me to thank,’ Thalos said airily as Anglach and Legolas trotted towards him grinning widely and messing about in a manner completely unbecoming warriors of the Wood and guards to the emissary of Thranduil.

‘Thank you,’ they both chorused dutifully and grinned at each other behind Thalos’ back. 

‘I can see you,’ he added without looking round.

‘Thank you,’ Legolas said again and smiled at his brother. It was so rare that they got to be together and Anglach knew that Legolas missed both his brothers. Anglach missed them too for he had been brought up in the King’s household as one of his own, but it was still not blood, Anglach thought a little sadly. At times like this, Anglach missed his older brother too although he was a dimmer memory even than his father. Both had been killed years ago, his brother, Rinion, in a surprise attack on the East Bite and his father of course, in the Third Retreat from the South as Dol Guldur’s power grew and the Elves were forced to retreat the third time. Anglach’s mother had sailed in her misery and bereavement, leaving a very small boy in the care of the King.

Not that Anglach was unhappy. He had been loved and cared for as if he were the King’s own son. Galion had fussed and scrubbed behind Anglach’s ears as much as he had Legolas’, and wiped their noses and told them off as much as any Nana might have. And though he and Legolas had grown up together within a very male household, it could not have been more loving. Anglach adored the King with an uncritical affection that Thranduil never had from his own sons. Perhaps that was why Anglach seemed protected from his displeasure where Legolas was definitely not.

But for now, the two friends were following Thalos towards the swift dark river and a small skiff which would take them to Esgaroth to discuss what the Men called a ‘renegotiation’ and what Thranduil called’ a tiresome complaint’, asserting that the Dwarves were most likely behind it anyway.

Anglach, who had lagged behind now, looked up at the sky and sighed. 

‘What are you doing lurking back there, Anglach. Come here where I can see you!’ called Thalos and he cast a grin back at Anglach. ‘I do not trust either of you!’

Anglach grinned widely back.

‘Laersul supported my suggestion that you be my guard,’ Thalos said, pulling on his leather gloves for the cold was biting that day. The sun had lost any warmth and the air was brittle with frost. His breath steamed as he spoke. But it was bright and the sky a clear, cold blue. 

‘Well someone has to keep you in check,’ Anglach grinned. Thalos laughed.

‘We whined until he could bear it no longer,’ added Legolas, falling into step with Thalos so that Anglach was on one side and he on the other. They were both armed to the teeth and Thalos suddenly realised that Legolas’ strides matched his own and that Anglach was slightly taller than him. He smiled to himself in wonder for it had crept up on him.

‘Your whining is very persuasive,’ he admitted and threw his pack into the bottom of the boat they would be taking to Esgaroth. Legolas jumped in and reached up to take Anglach’s bow which he stowed carefully with his own before settling at the stern.

Thalos raised an eyebrow and said,’ You forget yourself, minion. I am the lord here and you will be rowing I think.’ He caught a glimpse of Anglach grinning widely at Legolas’ face.

‘But…’

‘No.’ Thalos threw up his had to forestall the words. ‘Whining does not work on me. Laersul spoils you. Always has.’ Thalos stepped lightly into the small skiff. ‘He would probably row you himself if he were here but with me, you will earn your place. It keeps you out of mischief. Anglach, on watch first and Legolas -the oars please. You have an hour each.’ He gave Legolas a gentle kick with his boot and then settled elaborately, luxuriously against the prow so he could enjoy the journey. He gave them both a wide, dazzling smile that usually had people melting but it had not worked on either of these two for a very long time, and he had been told that Legolas had the same smile and Anglach said that Legolas spent so much time grinning at himself in the mirror that he had himself quite dazzled and quite stupid. 

Anglach grinned even more widely at Legolas as if he knew exactly what Thalos was thinking.

‘You were always the bossy one,’ Legolas whined exaggeratedly. ‘And I always liked Laersul best.’ He ducked the scoop of water that Thalos threw at him and laughed, taking up the oars as Anglach settled in the stern, looking outwards at the banks. Although he had set Anglach on watch of course, all three of them were alert and as they pushed off, the skiff cut through the dark water like a knife, its low elegant shape gliding with barely a ripple.

‘What provisions do we have?’ Legolas asked.

Anglach laughed. ‘You are always hungry,’ he said. ‘You should have been a Hobbit.’

‘But he eats like an orc,’ Thalos added. He pulled at his pack and extracted a wrapped bundle which he unwrapped. Both the younger warriors groaned for they recognised the customary leaf wrapping of lembas.

‘It’s Galion’s,’ Thalos said cheerfully and rapped it with his knuckles. ‘A competition,’ he suggested. ‘Whoever kills a fish with lembas doesn’t have to cook.’

Thalos enjoyed the short journey to Laketown. Anglach and he played a game of throwing small sticks at Legolas and then he listened to the loud and elaborate boasting of the two younger elves about how many Orcs they had killed, how many maids they had kissed. It jolted him to think that they were both so grown up now. 

He watched Legolas pull at the oars strongly, his muscles smooth and gliding under his skin like the boat sleekly gliding through the grey water. His long hair was pulled over one shoulder and he was good looking enough, thought Thalos, to turn many a head of both man and maid. Anglach too had an easy charm and equally good looking. His long hair was smooth over his shoulders and his bright eyes trained on the banks of the river. 

‘Look,’ Anglach said softly and they turned their eyes to where he nodded. A white doe and fawn were standing on the riverbank looking towards them with gentle interest. ‘A good omen,’ he said and Legolas gave a soft laugh.

‘He is so superstitious,’ Legolas answered Thalos’ curious look. ‘He sees omens in the way a crow flies, the pattern of a cloud. Look Anglach,’ he said, affectionately mocking. ‘A trout. It is swimming against the stream? What do you think that means?’

A wave of water splashed over Legolas and he blinked through it laughing still and Anglach turned with feigned hurt to Thalos.

‘He mocks my spiritual beliefs, Thalos. Is that not a cruel thing!’

Ahead of them a heavy raft listed heavily, laden with barrels from the King’s wine cellar. The elves poling the heavy rafts called out to them nd they drew alongside to exchange news and courteous words. 

‘What news from Esgaroth, friends?’ asked Thalos.

‘It still smells of fish!’ replied one of the men and there was a burst of laughter.

A girl stood upon the side of one of the rafts watching silently. For a moment, Thalos felt a jolt of recognition but he could not place her though her eyes flickered too in recognition. But before he could speak, Legolas had steered the boat towards the raft and Anglach was leaning over and calling to her and she smiled back. Both were calling to her, showing off and boasting and she, laughing and shaking her head in disbelief at both of them. She flashed another quick look once at Thalos and away again, like green-silver fish. He stared for a moment.

‘The master is as greedy as ever,’ one of the raft elves was saying to Thalos, and he glanced sideways at the girl, who had leaned over the water and gave her hand to Anglach, who took it and kissed it, said something gallant and flirtatious and that had her giggling and shaking her head at his ridiculousness. Legolas was trying to keep the boat close and Anglach was trying to pull the boat towards the raft.

‘He has raised his taxes so we have to pay even more now when we bring the wine from his warehouses,’ another of the raft elves said, ignoring the antics of the younger elves. He was older, perhaps the girl’s father, thought Thalos but another stood behind him, watching the three. He was taller than the others and had bright chestnut hair and green eyes. His gaze lingered a little longer, a little sadly, a little irritated, and Thalos read the story in that look: here was one who thought himself in love at least.

‘Anglach!’ Thalos took pity on the man, and girl. ‘Your turn at the oars I think.’

Legolas grinned at his friend and stood up carefully in the boat, shifted so that Anglach could sit in the well of the boat and take the oars. The boat drifted away from the raft a little.

‘My friend is exhausted,’ Anglach said smiling at the girl. ‘He has rowed one hundred yards and is tired. He is very weak,’ he added mischievously but Legolas had moved now to the stern and closer to the girl. 

‘My friend thinks he is funny,’ said Legolas as he settled himself in the stern of the boat and Thalos wondered if he had made a mistake in moving Anglach away for that gave Legolas a chance for her attention. ‘He is wrong of course,’ Legolas was saying. ‘Do you not think I am very strong?’ He tilted his head slightly and gave the girl the benefit of exactly that smile Anglach accused him of practising. The girl’s lips parted in a breath and her eyes fixed upon him. Anglach brought the boat close to the raft again so he could join in and tried to push it further so he drew level with the girl and Legolas had to raise his voice slightly so she could hear him. ’Perhaps we should wrestle and you decide which of us is stronger. My friend is quite weak of course, but he is also quite weak in the head.’

Thalos rolled his eyes and reached over to give Legolas a smack upside his own head. ‘This is not even amusing,’ he told them both. He smiled at the girl. ‘I apologise for these two fools,’ he said kindly. ‘They are barely of age and we normally keep them away from other folk. Please forgive them for their crassness and stupidity. They should be pitied.’

The girl smiled prettily and again, her silver-green gaze flashed at him briefly and away. Thalos thought he knew her from somehwhere and something in his belly fluttered. He smiled at her again and leaned on his elbow so it brought him slightly closer.

‘Are you on your way home?’ he was asking her when the raft elves suddenly started talking quite loudly and one of the poles banged, as if by accident, against the hull of their skiff. Thalos started and remembered himself and when he looked up he saw Legolas grinning at him in smug amusement. 

‘Well,’ he said recovering his dignity. ‘We must away on the King’s business, my friends. Safe journey,’ he said and bowed his head slightly at the raft elves and then a little more deeply at the girl. She had very nice eyes, unusual, he decided, and her hair was long and thick and dark. She was blushing and he gave her another smile. Anglach snorted and Thalos shot both Anglach and then Legolas a look. ‘Take up the oars please, Anglach. We have lost time through your dallying. It’s a good thing you have me to rescue you both from your stupidity.’

Grinning Anglach picked up the oars once more and stretched, dipped the oars and pulled, sending the skiff skimming lightly over the grey water. Thalos glanced back over his shoulder at the girl to see that she looked back too. He lifted his hand in farewell and she smiled. It was a sweet smile, he decided and thought he should return along these shores perhaps and make a point of understanding the raft Elves’ business once he returned.

‘That is Silaneth,’ Anglach said and he was still grinning. ‘The sister of Galadhon.’

‘Galadhon!’ Thalos turned and looked at him astonished. Galadhon was one of his best friends. ‘That cannot be THAT Silaneth…she is not old enough to be the girl we have just seen. Surely Silaneth is only…’ He counted mentally and realised that this could indeed by the Silaneth who had trailed around after Galadhon and himself like a small puppy, and whom he had carried on his shoulders when she became tired, who had hung about shyly when he and Galadhon had returned from hunting. It could not be that small quiet child who had been barely able to speak to him for shyness, but who later swung on his hands like a duckling and swore that she would look after him while Galadhon pursued his own sweetheart, so he would not be lonely.

‘How is it that she is on the river with the raft elves?’ he demanded. 

‘She is a weaver and gets her dyes from Esgaroth,’ Legolas said and there was a note of caution. ‘I expect Galadhon’s cousin gives her a ride down river.’

Ah, of course, Thalos remembered now. Galadhon’s family were raft elves and it was only because Galadhon wanted so much to be a warrior that he had moved towards the stronghold and settled. 

‘And Tauron is clearly besotted,’ Legolas added. ‘He is the big one with the arms like tree trunks.’ he aded helpfully. 

‘Yes- you should not tease him by flirting with Silaneth, Legolas,’ Anglach said sanctimoniously but Thalos was not listening: an odd little feeling settled in his chest, like his heart had plunged woodenly to his belly. 

‘I think they are to be betrothed,’ Legolas said softly. He was looking at Thalos with kindness and a little concern but Thalos shrugged.

‘Ah well, at least she has escaped your clutches, Squirts. And it is a good thing I rescued you. He would have made mincemeat out of the pair of you!’

Legolas laughed and Anglach flicked water up at Thalos. But the heaviness in his chest did not leave and he looked away from them both and stared instead at the riverbank. ‘Be ware,’ he said for he wanted them to look and think elsewhere. ‘Orcs were here a month ago and we almost lost a cargo.’

But in truth, he wanted to nurse the soreness that grew in his chest. Silly, he told himself. It is just affection for a child who once doted on you. But he remembered now that little Silaneth had doted upon him indeed and, putting her chubby hand in his, declared that when she was old enough, she would marry him.

Ah, he was a fool. And just a little lonely perhaps. He had not recognised it before. 

The river rushed over the granite rocks, over rapids that they skipped over lightly and into still pools that they rowed over, leaving silver trails in the water.

And perhaps his preoccupation accounted for later events for his attention was, perhaps, not entirely where it should be and certainly not on his little brother and his friend. He should have known the mood they were in just from that short encounter and perhaps, had he not been so surprised and distracted himself, he would have recognised the signs and stopped this escalating in the way that they did.

0o0o


	4. Chapter 4: Esgaroth

Chapter 4: Esgaroth

They smelled Esgaroth before they could see it.

And as soon as they set foot on the wooden pier, they attracted attention. This was not unusual of course, for any Elves in Esgaroth would attract more attention than dwarves certainly for there were a number of dwarves here going about their own business. 

But Legolas and Anglach were excited, young, fresh-faced and handsome. Their merry laughter and easy smiles brought the girls and women close, to gaze upon their handsome faces and stare, for the drudgery of their lives made them drab and the Elves lifted them, made them feel that there was loveliness in their lives after all.

Thalos himself had been to Esgaroth many times over the years. It had always been a seedy place, but the wealth of Dale and Erebor had given it a seemliness to the town, a veneer at least of civilisation. But underneath, it always had been and always would be, a cross place for traders, smugglers, mercenaries…thieves, vagabonds, the detritus of humanity. They drifted here because there was nowhere else. And the Master was simply the Man who could buy most votes, and those were only given to a handful of the richer merchants, traders. A few farmers. Thalos never enjoyed his time here exactly He preferred Dale with urbanity and culture, but there was a certain vibrancy, a thrum of life that was the brief flame of mortality.

They walked along the boards that were lashed together and that rested on the water like strange floating streets. The houses were tall and were built upon piles into the lake and he could feel the boarded paths undulate gently under his feet as he walked and the excited exclamations of his companions. Anglach stared at and smiled at every dwarf they passed, until Thalos had to pull him to one side and tell him that dwarves did not like it if you smiled at them. They preferred a friendly grunt. 

That was a mistake because Anglach’s friendly grunts had Legolas giggling and the dwarves then began to give them looks that suggested they thought Anglach ws ridiculing them.

‘Just ignore them,’ Thalos said exasperated. 

They passed through the fish market with its pungent wares. Silver fish stared glassily up at him, their scales gleaming in the weak sunlight. Woven baskets piled high and filled with more varieties of fish than he had names for; it made him feel a little stupider than he was. A little more ill at ease.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see that Legolas had become embroiled in a sort of conversation with a couple of maidens and Anglach was watching a conjuror play a card game that almost inevitably would lead to him losing his purse. They should know better, Thalos thought irritably. 

He strode back to where the two had got distracted. Anglach had a look of intense concentration on his face and his eyes followed the Man’s hands as they whirled about. He heard Legolas laugh in that particular way he had when he was flirting outrageously. Thalos grabbed Legolas’ arm and dragged him away.

‘What are you doing?’ Legolas protested indignantly. 

‘I am saving you from making a complete fool of yourself,’ Thalos snapped. ‘Go and get Anlgach before he starts a riot.’ 

‘What ? He is just watching…’

‘Do it!’ Thalos said in a warning voice that meant he was commander and not brother. Even so, Legolas just managed to stifle a sigh as he turned and quickly walked over to Anglach’s side and leaned in to whisper. Anglach’s eyes did not leave the Man’s hands but he muttered something back out of the corner of his mouth. Legolas glanced over at Thalos as if judging his mood and finding it warning, said something more urgently to which Anglach shook his head and still did not look away.

At that, Thalos strode over to the pair of them. He smiled pleasantly at the Man, who of course did not speak their tongue, and said silkily, ‘If you do not come with me right this moment, I will tie you up and dangle you over the side of the boat so that you stay out of trouble. You will miss the banquet that will surely be held in our honour but you will make the acquaintance of many fish.’ He paused to allow them to smile, and then he added coolly, ‘But of course I will have to report you to Laersul first and then the King… For insubordination and bringing the Realm into disrepute.’

He almost heard Anglach gulp. It was satisfyingly effective and he found they trotted on his heels in a most satisfactory manner after that. Later of course, he wished he had left them there.

Thalos did not let them linger after that and strode quickly to the the Master’s Hall where the guard saluted and one quickly, nervously, disappeared inside. 

The remaining guard shifted and coughed. Thalos smiled at him, showed his teeth but Anglach gave a more cheery grin and waved at his pike. 

‘That’s an interesting weapon,’ was what he intended to say but his Westron was shockingly bad. ‘Big weapon is the fish.’ He gave an expectant smile. The Man simply stared and looked terrified. Anglach’s face fell and Legolas, whose Westron was a little better, intervened.

‘He is interested in your weapon.’

The Man looked aghast and Thalos had to drag them both away by their elbows and hissed at them, ‘Look, just be quiet. You are here as my escort. Don’t try and make friends. Don’t do anything silly.’

Fortunately at that moment, the first guard returned accompanied by a small man dressed in black, who bowed and rubbed his hands together obsequiously. His shoulders were hunched and it appeared like he had no neck at all. His eyes though, were bright and cunning.

‘Welcome! Welcome my lord!’ he cried. He smiled to show very bad teeth. ‘My name is Frederick and I am the Master’s chancellor. Please,’ he bowed with a flourish. ‘Won’t you come in.’ The doors swung open and grinning at each other, Anglach and Legolas followed Thalos inside. They could hear Frederick’s muttered irritated reprimand to the two sentries who had kept the King of the Wood’s son waiting like some commoner.

Inside was a gaudy and rather tastless grandeur. Rich and heavy tapestries hung from the walls, and there were brightly polished weapons arragned in displays, which they found odd. Why would you display weapons instead of keep them in he armoury? They were ushered through a corridor that was crammed with heavy furniture but it was gleaming with polish and care and the floors were swept and strewn with rushes. Legolas was wondering why they put reeds on the floor but he had no chance to ask for there was a sudden commotion at the end of the corridor and some heavy wooden doors were thrown open and a crowd of people hurried forwards, led by a fat man in heavy brocade robes. His fat hands were covered in rings and jewels glittered in his ears. A thick gold chain was around his neck and his jowls wobbled as he rushed forwards, hands held out and crying aloud in greeting.

‘My dear lord Thalos! Please, forgive my men.’ The Master bowed and rubbed his hands together obsequiously. ‘It is so hard to get good quality these days. They are so ignorant.’ He turned and glared at Frederick and said, ‘He will be flogged for his insolence.’

Legolas and Anglach looked blankly at Thalos and he knew they would have no idea what flogging was. And he did not want them to ever find out so he waved his hand dismissively. ‘It was a mistake. My men asked him a question that was all. They are curious. There is no need for punishment.’

The man almost sagged with relief and the Master turned a contemptuous gaze towards him and waved his hand in dismissal. The man scurried out quickly, a grateful look at Thalos as he left. Thaols inclined his head.

‘Come my lord. You must be hungry and thirsty after your journey,’ the Master continued. He turned his head and clapped his pudgy hands. Braclets tinkled on his wrists and Thalos could almost feel Anglach’s and Legolas’ astonishment and curiosity. He sent an image to silence them, of them trussed up and left to dangle off the side of the boat. 

Ahead of them in the Master’s dining room, a gaudy and excited crowd goggled and exclaimed and waved their hands about. Women pressed forwards and craned their necks to stare and there was fluttering fans and batting of eyelashes. Thalos bowed courteously and said little but he could feel the bemused excitement of the two elves behind him and turned once to give them a cool stare. ‘You are here on the King’s business,’ he said warningly.

The Master’s household must have been thrown into a frenzy by their unannounced arrival for the room had been hastily prepared: chairs had been dragged around a large table, brass and silver given a quick wipe and wine brought out in crystal glasses, silver platters of fruits and various cheeses, hams and some delicious little cakes that Thalos liked that you could only seem to get in Esgaroth. There was a variety of pickled fish slopped into dishes and bolws that Thalos inwardly cringed at. He was pressed into a chair at the Master’s right hand, Frederick served them himself and Thalos thought how much he would prefer almost any of the other servants to have done so. There were some women sitting along the table to the left whom he had not seem before and he bowed courteously to them and sent them into a flutter of giggles and fan waving. He heard Legolas and Anglach take up positions behind his chair.

Thalos had business with the Master and this quick repast was only the start. He knew there would be feast later on that evening so the Master could impress him with his hospitailty and wealth. He knew as well that in spite of seeming a buffooon, this Master was shrewd and in fact, better than the usual Esgaroth had elected.

He listened carefully as the Master told him news of the region, the cold winter that had reduced their crops, the attacks of raiders upon the barges that came from the South, the outlaws who ravaged the plains to the East and the problems of depleted fish stock because the residents of Laketown had overfished five years ago and the stock had not recovered. As the Master spoke, he ate. His lips were full and slack and oil from the pickled fish dripped down his chin. Often Thalos could see the food churning in his mouth as he spoke.

Thalos listened politely and nodded and spoke of the Shadow in the South, of the Orcs that proliferated and the Master agreed, there had been attacks on farms and villages to the south. Men had stopped settling there. Thalos said nothing however, when the Master complained about the taxes King Brand had imposed upon Esgaroth, and he said less when the Master complained that the Dwarves drove a such hard bargain and did not pay the duties due to him when they moved their goods over the Lake. It was the very matter of duties that had brought Thalos to Laketown; for the Master wanted to increase the duties paid on goods passing through the town. The King who had sent Thalos to represent them. His job was to persuade the Master to reduce the extortionate duties

0o0o

Legolas was not listening. He stood silent and straight, but his mind was rambling around the wooden hall, looking at the strange objects Men kept. There was a huge fish that seemed to be preserved somehow and mounted upon a wooden board. Its eye stared at him accusingly, glassily and he frowned slightly. Why would you catch a fish that size and not eat it, he wondered. There was the heads of deer too and he found that disturbing. There was a display of spears at the far wall which he thought highly irresponsible for weapons to be kept so openly and clearly not sharpened or war ready was wasteful and dangerous in his view.

The hall was made of wood, oak. Its golden wood had been painted though and was gaudy and overly bright. The whole place stank of fish and slightly stagnant water. 

He sighed very quietly. This was not what he had expected. He could feel Anglach’s inattention too and slid a gaze towards his friend.

But Anglach was completely unaware of Legolas and engaged quite otherwise with a silent flirtation with a very pretty girl sitting alongside the Master’s left. As Thalos was on his right of the long table, the Master at the head, it meant Thalos sat opposite the women and so Anglach and Legolas, standing behind him, could look their fill.

The girl Anglach was looking at had long blonde hair and blue eyes. Her lips were soft and full and pouting and her eyes bright. She was fixed upon Anglach like he was a dainty sweet and she would gobble him up. He’ll love that, thought Legolas wryly.

He let his gaze drift along the row and found another girl watching him. She looked a little like Anglach’s girl, enough to be her sister but her hair was dark rather than blonde, and he let a small smile pull at his mouth but not enough to attract anyone else’s attention. Her eyes lit up and a becoming blush crept over her face so he let his gaze linger on her a little longer and the blush deepened most delightfully. He widened his smile and flashed his eyes at her, knowing the effect…And there it was. The flutter of eyelashes and the widening of the pupils.

She was interested.

Definitely.

He smiled to himself.

0o0o


	5. The feast (or Where Legolas Went Wrong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit Sex scene in this.

Chapter 5: The Feast

After the boring bits were over, the welcomes, the exchange of news, and the inevitable wrangling over the duties began, there was a feast to celebrate the trade and goodwill between the Lake and the Wood and Thalos was of course, guest of honour. Legolas and Anglach were not. 

They would of course, at the feast as Thalos’ escorts, but there were no duties demanded of them and Thalos waved his hand at them with easy grace. ‘I do not need you to negotiate with the Master on this. Enjoy yourselves,’ he said. ‘But don’t get into trouble.’ Which meant they could come along and enjoy the wine and food, although neither the boiled fish or cabbage was very nice to be honest, and the wine tasted ever so slightly of fish. But there was dancing too and they were much in demand, and outside the hall was gambling. And since Thalos was engaged in discussion with the Master and his advisor, Frederick, they gravitated towards the gambling like moths round a flame.

There were two old hands sitting on barrels and playing cards in the square before the hall. Legolas did not need to have overheard them plotting to lure these guillible Woodelves into losing everything even their socks for it was written plainly on their faces, in the slanting glances they gave the Elves as he and Anglach sauntered over as innocent as you please. Afer losing three games to the elves in quick succession, the two Men suddenly started winning so Anglach folded his hand and Legolas began to do the same but allowed the two Men to persuade him otherwise. But he laughingly raised the stakes and then when they expected to win, had surprisingly held out two trumping cards as if entirely innocent of their value. Grinning widely, he had thrown them two coins back for their efforts but scooped his winnings into his cloak and to the cheers of the crowds, bowed with a flourish and cast a handful of coins in the air for onlookers to scrap over. There were a couple of dwarves watching who looked almost impressed.

Anglach had already been drawn away by the pretty girl he had been flirting with earlier and Legolas looked about hopefully for the other girl, but she was still inside the hall and sitting near the Master, looking bored.

Legolas hung about near the doorway, trying to catch her eye but to no avail.

Only when some of the diners started to drift away, did someone seek him out.

Not the girl he was hoping for. A woman, not a maiden. She had a knowing look in her eyes and a beguiling, seductive smile that she used on Legolas shamelessly, and he was happy to be led away from the bright lights and noise down one of the walkways that lay over the oily water and between the dark buildings and houses. 

‘Well you’re a pretty one to be allowed out on your own,’ the woman said coquettishly and he laughed breathlessly as she firmly, expertly stroked a long hand down the length of his cock that was lying stiffly against his thigh.

‘I was thinking the same about you,’ he said smiling and taking her hand, he kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed her palm. Then her wrist. He slid an arm around her waist, cupped the softness of her breast in his own palm and felt her nipple pebble and harden under his fingers as he tweaked and lightly pinched. Her light gasp was all the encouragment he needed and he leaned in to kiss her on the mouth. Her tongue darted out and wrestled with his strongly, urgently and with passion that he found exciting and he pressed her back against the wooden wall of the building. 

She moaned into his mouth and this excited him so he fumbled beneath the back of her gown and found her warm skin. She shivered delightfully and he smiled and pressed against her so she could feel his hardness. But befoere he knew it, her hand was down his breeches and she had pulled his cock out. He blinked and gasped for she was very experienced, flicking the end of it and pumping him twice so he was hard and needy and oh, he wanted her now.

He slipped her gown from her shoulders and kissed her neck, her chest, her breasts, her nipples and sucked hard. Her grip on his cock tightened and he could not help but thrust his hips against her and she laughed.

‘Not too soon, my warrior.’ She hitched up her skirts quite shamelessly and Legolas bit his lip and glnaced behind him, wondering if he should for Thalos had impressed upon him the need for discretion. But they were hidden away here and no one was around.

She was pulling on his hand and dragging him further into the shadows. Then she wriggled herself so her gown was pulled down to reveal her breasts, plump and delicious, and hiked up her skirt so he could see her pale thighs, and a dark V at the junction of her legs.

Eru’s mighty arse, he thought to himself and felt his cock leap for joy at this unexpected and glorious delight. What he said was, ‘You have the most magnificent breasts and thighs. And hair! I just want to…’ Anything else he was about to say was muffled by her grabbing his head and pulling him down towards her whilst she snogged him deeply and passionately, fondling his cock so he had to shake her off for a moment before he exploded in her hand. 

‘Do you want to…?’ he asked breahtlessly.

‘Oh yes!’ she gasped and drew her leg up his and wrapped it round his hips, pulled his very close. The tip of his cock nudged at her warmth and wetness and he bent his knees a little to get the angle but she almost clambered up him and sank down onto him with a shout of triumph as his large, pulsing cock sank into her hot, giving flesh. Almost immediately he felt the rush and churn in his balls and she jiggled about, grabbing his hands and gripping them over her breasts. He couldn’t hold it and felt himself exploding even as she clenched and gripped tight over his cock like a hand and htrew her head back with loud cry.

‘Ooh oh ohh…..’

Her head leaned forward onto his shoulder and he held onto her, breathing hard, feeling her gradually release him and only then did he smile and lift her off him, feeling the stickiness of her thighs, of his cock as she slid awkwardly off him. She gave him a smile and he flashed a bright grin.

‘That was fun!’ she said mischeviously and pulled her dress up over her breasts and down over her thighs. She smoothed her long dark hair over her shoulder and glanced up at him with bright and merry eyes. ‘Are you here for long?’ she asked.

‘Only tonight and we leave tomorrow unless our captain can be persuaded to stay longer,’ he said, pulling out a handkerchief from his own tunic, he cleaned himself and then shoved his cock back into his breeches. He looked at the handkerchief; it had Thranduil’s own sigil embroidered carefully on it and Legolas felt a little niggle of anxious guilt for a moment. Then he wrapped the soiled handkerchief carefully and folded it up and shoved it in the top of his boots to deal with later.

‘Oh, I am sure he can be persuaded to stay longer,’ she smirked. 

She cast him a mischevious and seductive glance over her shoulder as she pushed away and sashayed her way down the alleyway and back into the light that spilled from the Master’s Hall.

He leaned against the wooden walls of the warehouse against which she had leaned only moments ago and breathed out. It was certainly the most unexpected manner in which to be welcomed to Laketown, he thought. Not at all like the Elves.

0o0o

Legolas had eventually gone to sleep on a hard little bed that he and Anglach seemed to have to share in a cold anteroom of Thalos’ chamber. Or would have if Anglach had appeared at all but he had not. The antechamber was very sparsely furnished, with the one bed, a small, rather ricketty table and hard wooden chair and Legolas did not blame Anglach for staying out. After the woman had left him, Legolas had returned to the Master’s hall where there had been dancing and card-games and merriment. He had seen Anglach dancing with the girl he had been eyeing up. Then Legolas had danced with Branwen, the dark-haired girl he had seen earlier in the afternoon when they had first arrived. He had danced a lot with her, but he had not seen the woman. He had won a bit of money from a card game or two with some of the Master’s hangers-on and generally, he felt, been a success. His juggling with knives and delicate glasses had been a particular success and the knife throwing trick with Anglach had won them many appreciative glances.

After that though, Anglach seemed to have slipped away. Probably with the blonde girl he had been flirting with, Legolas thought and wished he had been able to steal a kiss or two from Branwen. Thalos had to stay talking to the Master and his cronies, and although there were one or two occasions when he was pulled away to dance with some of the ladies, he was mainly occupied by the Master.

When Legolas awoke, he could hear Thalos moving about in the big bedchamber and he felt Anglach’s warm body close to him in the small bed. He prodded Anglach unsympathetically and rolled his eyes at the goofy experssion on his friend’s face.

‘I am in love,’ Anglach declared. ‘She is called Briniel and she is the daughter of the Master. How can he be so ugly and have such a lovely daughter? Although her mother is very pretty and much younger than her ugly husband.’

‘It’s about time you two squirts awoke,’ said Thalos, through the heavy door. Legolas greeted his brother warmly and stretched his muscles and long limbs. Thalos’ chamber was filled with heavy and unecessary furniture and rich but rather tasteless hangings. Heavy brass ornamemts decorated the room but to the elves, it was heavy and ponderous and the heavy curtains at the windows obscured the wintry sunlight that filtered through the dirty glass.

‘Did you enjoy your evening with the Master and his council?’ Legolas asked innocently and threw himself upon Thalos’ deep, luxurious bed, putting his feet on the coverlet and put his hands beneath his head so he could regard hs brother more easily.

Thalos balled up a shirt that he had dropped on the floor and threw it at him. ‘So much so that we are staying another day,’ he announced wryly.

It was with surprise and secret delight that Legolas heard Thalos’ news.

‘I cannot easily avoid the opportunity to meet with the merchants from Dorwinion,’ Thalos said, pulling on his boots and smoothing down his hair. ‘Galion will expect me to strike a deal for the new vintage.’

‘Of course he will,’ said Legolas seriously. ‘It would be remiss of you to miss this chance.’

‘Yes,’ Anglach said, coming out of the antechamber with sleepy eyes and tousled hair. He blinked in the weak sunlight. ‘The King does like a drop of Dorwinion. But don’t take Legolas to the meeting, Thalos. He will say something stupid and ruin it for you.’

Legolas tutted irritably but said nothing because he did not want to spend time with the merchants either of course but wanted to find the woman from last night. He licked his lips; she had been wanton and demanding. It was exciting and unbearably erotic. He didn’t even know her name!

Thalos had pulled on a black sueded tunic, very soft and fine. It was embroidered with leaves on the cuffs and hem in emerald green thread. Legolas recognised the fine work of Isilwen, the King’s seamstress. ’You look very handsome and serious.’ He felt a surge of pride in his tall, handsome brother and laughed, brushing the shoulder of Thalos’ tunic unnecessarily. . ‘They will fall at your feet and give you anything you want.’

‘Hm.’ Thalos looked at them suspiciously. ‘What have you two been doing with yourselves anyway?’

‘I have been engaging with the people of Esgaroth and enhancing the reputation of the King,’ Anglach said, stretching his arms and yawning. ‘I have told them how good he is and fair, how he loves his people and cares about the people of Esgaroth.’ He threw a smug look at Legolas. ‘What have you been up to, Legolas?’

Legolas opened his mouth to say that Briniel, the girl Anglach liked, was probably not very interested in the King’s reputation but he remembered his own secret guilt and chewed his lip instead. Had Thalos seen him, he would have known and the impending disaster might have been averted but something clattered outside their window and distracted him, and he was tired, for the Master was boring and had droned on about his petty squabbles with the King of Dale, the boatmen, the barge owners, the dwarves, everyone, it seemed, but the elves. 

‘I have been dicing and gambling and flirting and stuff,’ Legolas said with a wince but Thalos threw him a glance.

‘Same as Anglach then,’ he said ignoring Anglach’s cry of protest. ‘But both of you, be careful to win only a little and not clean anyone out. And do not lead anyone on. Men are precious about their women and will not look kindly on anyone playing with their daughters’ affections, or anything else for that matter. Keep your hands to yourselves and everything else tucked away in its proper place.’ He was so serious that Legolas nearly blurted out what had already happened and later, he would wish he had. But he shut his mouth instead and regretfully resolved to obey his brother. Anglach too closed his mouth as if he were about to say something and had thought better of it.

‘Are we free then, to look about the town?’ Legolas asked instead.

‘Yes. But remember. You are here representing the King. And both Laersul and I begged for you to be allowed to come so do not let us down.’

0o0o0o


	6. In which Anglach realises but does not tell Legolas

The market was in full swing and there were brightly coloured awnings and banners declaring the wares sold at each stall. A bushel of herbs declared the herbalist, as it did in the Wood, and a pair of crossed axes hung upon a wrought iron archway indicated the dwarven weapon-makers. Anglach and Legolas were enthralled by the smells and sounds, the colours and textures of the market. One stall sold jars of spices and herbs and Legolas, wanting to buy gifts for those he loved, bought Galion saffron and cardamon seeds in little paper bags folded over and Anglach wandered off to look at strange, elegant bottles with long tubes from Far Harad. 

He returned, clutching a bundle of these under his arm and looking excited. ‘They are called sheeshah pipes,’ he said with a look that Legolas recognised and sighed. ‘I have bought one for the King and one for Galion.’ he said. 

Legolas looked curiously at the coloured glass and gold engraving. There were strange brass nozzles and fittings. ‘Look, you put the tubes in here and then…’ Anglach fiddled about with one of the other bottles and fitted it to the bigger one. ‘And then…’ He picked up the long tube and to Legolas’ astonishment, put it in his mouth. ‘You suck in the smoke.’

Legolas’ mouth dropped open. ‘Like the Dwarves’ pipeweed?’ he asked. Anglach smiled beautifully, nodding. ‘I cannot imagine the King doing that,’ Legolas said sceptically, imagining Thranduil’s face as the delighted and excited Anglach presented it to him. Then, catching Anglach’s sudden disappointment, Legolas added kindly, ‘Although I do think it is good for him to try new things. We need to keep him open-minded to new things.’ He smiled with satisfaction as Anglach recovered his joy.

‘Yes, that’s what I thought. I think Galion will really like it and he and the King cans it together in the evenings smoking.’

Legolas looked at the small paper packet of cardamon and saffron, thinking how small was his gift compared with the extravagance of Anglach’s. he would look for something else as well, he decided.

There were stalls that sold long coils of rope and heavy metal implements that sailors used. They wandered along the walkways lined with stalls and little shops, there was wine and ale in earthenware flagons, silks and satins, velvet and lace, pipeweed that Mithrandir liked so much, its pungent fragrance mixed with other headier scents that they had not come across before but that made their heads swim and their eyes blurry. And of course, fish. Lots and lots of fish. Their glassy eyes gazed at Legolas reprovingly as if he were somehow responsible for their death.

Far beyond, at the end of the Long Lake, was the Lonely Mountain, Erebor. It was reflected in the surface of the Lake like a mirror and Legolas stopped to stare at it for a moment. 

There was a shuffle and movement beside him and he moved slightly and in doing so, trod on something hard and unyielding. He looked down and realised he had trodden upon the steel-toed boot of a dwarf. He immediately apologised but at the same time, the dwarf glared up at him.

‘Watch where you’re putting your great hoofs!’ the dwarf snapped in Westron. His ginger hair was wiry and only reached his collar and he hardly had any beard at all. He seemed small even for a dwarf and Legolas thought he was very young. And very grumpy.

‘I said I was sorry,’ Legolas snapped back in the same tongue. ‘But you bumped into me before I stepped on you.’

Anglach was staring in delight at the dwarf and opened his mouth to speak but Legolas nudged him hard and instead he looked at Legolas in astonishment. ‘What was that for?’

‘Yes well come on before we get into a fight with this little rodent,’ Legolas hissed in Sindarin.

‘Rodent!’

Oh shit. The dwarf had understood. That was unhelpful.

‘I think you misheard, master dwarf,’ Legolas said smoothly, switching back into Westron. ‘I said rodéntt. It is our silvan word for warrior.’

The dwarf bared his white teeth in what Legolas thought must be an attempt at a grin. He spoke in fluent Sindarin. ‘Well then, master rodent, I accept your apology and will let you go on your way since you are so penitent and respectful. I would not wish to beat you to a pulp in front of your girl friend.’

Anglach looked about. ‘Girl friend? Where? And why is he calling you master rodent?’

Legolas pressed his lips together. ‘He means you, idiot.’ He glared at the dwarf, who grinned at him in malicious glee. Legolas really wanted to pitch the dwarf into the lake but he thought the dwarf seemed very fierce and looked like he did not realise how small he was.

‘I am not a girl,’ Anglach protested to Legolas as he hustled Anglach away.

‘No, you are definitely not. You are too ugly to be a girl.’

‘And I have a cock.’

‘Yes. You do have a cock.’

‘Why is he calling you Master Rodent?’ Anglach asked then.

Legolas sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we don’t get into any trouble. Not any more trouble anyway.’

‘What do you mean, not any more trouble?’

Legolas found a loose thread on his sleeve, even though it was very tightly sewn. He picked at it nervously and Anglach gave him a wry smile.

‘What have you done?’

So Legolas told him about the woman. Anglach listened lasciviously. ‘What were her breasts like?’ he asked. ‘Were they this big?’ He cupped his hands deliciously. ‘Or this big?’ he dropped them down a bit more. He had a silly, lecherous grin on his face. ‘You sly dog, Legolas. Why is it you get all the luck, or should I say…’

‘You should say nothing!’ Legolas shot back. ‘I didn’t think…I was..’

‘You were led by your cock as usual.’

He said nothing for it was true. But this morning, Thalos had warned them not to do anything with the women of Esgaroth and now it was too late to tell him. He should have said something straight away, he scolded himself. Now it was too late.

‘Well it sounds like she had a nice time too,’ Anglach said conciliatory. ‘So I don’t suppose she will complain to anyone.’

They paused before a dwarf’s stall with glinting knives and small weapons that could be concealed about the person and Legolas picked up a small bronze wheel, beautifully etched. He spun it with one finger. It moved easily and had a little button in the middle.

‘Careful with that, master,’ said the burly dwarf behind the stall. He had bristling red eyebrows and a bristling red beard to match. ‘Here, let me show you. Press that button there but hold it in the middle or you’ll cut your fingers off.’

Legolas did and the moment he pressed the catch, a dozen razor sharp blades slid out of the sides. ‘A roulette!’ He imagined how perfectly it would cut through the air when thrown, how it would slice into an orc’s flesh. It would make a perfect gift for Laersul. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded one for himself. ‘How much are they?’ he asked, casting an appraising glance over the carefully arranged weapons. 

‘We call them Shimêk-gimli, throwing stars,’ said the dwarf and he named his price. 

Legolas looked down at the beautifully crafted weapon regretfully for it would cost most of his purse. ‘That is a high price,’ he began, thinking to haggle, but  
the dwarf narrowed his eyes and folded his burly arms over his deep chest. 

‘You want it, that’s the price. If y’don’t, stop getting your paw-prints all over it.’

But Legolas had felt the craftsmanship in the wheel, heard the perfect click of the hidden mechanism, imagined the delight in Laersul’s eyes and he could not walk away from it. He paid nearly of the coin that he had won the previous night and tucked his purchase inside his tunic pocket. ‘You have some fine things here,’ he said. There were short stabbing swords, and strange shaped throwing knives, axes, sticks and a beautifully made leather vambrace that held silver darts held just above the knuckle plate. The vambrace was etched with interwoven leaves and the darts were chased with copper. He thought Thranduil would like it and reluctantly he parted with the rest of his coin and had the fine vambrace to go with with roulette and suddenly the cardamon seeds seemed a mean gift indeed for Galion, who had been like the mother he no longer had.

‘I have something for Laersul and Adar. But I need something more for Galion’ he said, looking at his almost empty purse. He would have liked to buy something for Thalos too but he had run out of money and would have to play cards that evening to win some more. He was faintly shocked at how easy it was to win against the Men of Esgaroth, they seemed so dull and slow-witted.

They managed to stay out of trouble reasonably well, apart from a bit of a scuffle with some rowdy bargemen who grinned and swaggered towards the two lighter, slim youths, as they thought the Elves, whose faces were smooth and hairless. The bargemen said unkind things about Legolas’ parentage and that ended up badly for the bargemen. After Legolas had dunked a couple of them in the cold cold lake, Anglach had chased the other one off. When Legolas looked around, the small dwarf was there and watching amused.

At last it was time to return to the Master’s halls for the sun was drawing low over the lake and over the grey water, a heron flew slowly into the reeds and the wild geese came flying in in great flocks, honking as they settled in the shallow water on the other side of the lake. The Lonely Mountain was lit briefly by the fiery sun and the snow turned red as blood. 

Anglach shivered. ‘Imagine if a dragon came here,’ he said suddenly. ‘The whole lake would look like it was on fire.’

‘Don’t talk so,’ said Legolas with a sudden cold shiver. ‘let’s get back to see how Thalos is getting on. We have done really well today We have been in no trouble and should have acquitted ourselves very well.’ He patted his little stash of gifts and imagined his father’s face when he saw the vambrace, and smiled at the thought of his bemusement at Anglach’s strange gift.

0o0o

There was not a feast that evening but a more informal affair. Thalos was accompanied by Legolas and Anglach to the Master’s table where he was seated at the Master’s right hand. Clearly Anglach and Legolas were not expected to remain and Thalos turned to let them go, to a more entertaining evening than he had ahead of him, he thought. The Master’s many daughters hovered near the doorway, giggling and ogling at the young men in the room and Thalos caught the brief and longingly meaningful look between Branwen, the Master’s youngest daughter, and Legolas, and then her slightly older her sister, Briniel and Anglach.

Thalos gave them both a warning look, and hissed, ‘Do not even think of it. These are the two youngest daughters of the Master and this is not The Wood. They will not understand.’

Nodding but not looking at Thalos but the two young women, Anglach and Legolas almost scampered away in their hurry to be gone. Gambling, Thalos was certain for they were notorious even in the Wood and skilful. They would probably return with more coin than they arrived and he had no doubt that they could easily handle any thuggery that the card-sharks of Esgaroth might wish to visit upon them.

Thalos breathed in and smothered the heavy sigh that wanted to force itself from him. The Master had called his daughters into the room and was lecturing the merchants around the table about bringing up children. 

‘Of course daughters are not as useful as sons,’ he was saying and Thalos was inwardly cringing for the girls were well within earshot. ‘But they are very decorative and can read and write a little but are good little spinners and can embroider very nicely.’

The girls settled like fluttering doves on the various benches and sat far more demurely than their coquettish glances suggested. But Thalos’ only thought was of relief that they were here and his little brothers were not, for Anglach was as close as kin.

After some time, the company had flagged and the girls were allowed to leave. Thalos wished he might also find some excuse for whilst the merchants from Dorwinion were entertaining, the Master had forced his own presence into the meeting and was droning on about himself. And he was very very dull.

‘…and then of course, I became the first Master of the Guild of Merchants, by selling the charters to the bargemen first and then the traders from your own region.’ He nodded towards the merchants from Dorwinion, his jowls wobbling above an elaborate lace collar that Thalos thought must have irritated and tickled for the Master’s skin above his throat was red and pocked. Borlas was also present, the merchant who had come to the Wood and begun this whole charade, as Thalos was beginning to think it, for it seemed clear to him that the Master had no intention of negotiating and simply made demand after unreasonable demand.

‘Ah! My dear!’ The Master suddenly tried to raise his bulk from the chair in which he was wedged, an undignified struggle ensued with the unctuous servant, Frederick, vainly trying to part his Master from his chair so he could rise and greet a surprisingly pretty young woman that at first, Thalos thought must be his oldest daughter.

‘My dear wife, Briseis,’ the Master introduced her to the assembled party.

Her eyes fastened immediately upon Thalos and he bowed courteously, trying to stop the surprise reaching his face.

‘She has been visiting family and is now returned,’ the Master said jovially and Thalos wondered if her return had been quite the joyful affair for her as it was for the Master.

Mistress Briseis lost no time in snapping her fingers at Frederick who, like a loyal dog, rushed to fetch a chair, showing some lesser person from it in order to trot after her and push it unceremoniously between Thalos and her husband so that she could turn and give Thalos the benefit of an unexpectedly sweet smile.

‘My lord. I heard that there were Elves of the Wood amongst us and I hurried here as fast as I could to meet you. And to make sure that my dear husband did not bore you to death,’ she said it with a smile and affectionate slap of her hand against her husband’s arm but her eyes were hungry when she looked at Thalos. 

She was trouble if ever he saw it, though Thalos. Not only was she much younger than her husband, and more attractive, she had a wiliness about her and a coquettishness that he thought dangerous given her husband’s position in the town.

‘Are you wed, my lord? I have four very beautiful daughters, all needing husbands.’

Thalos hid his shock at her boldness and sipped lightly at his goblet of wine instead. ‘Indeed not, my lady. Although I am betrothed.’ He thought it much safer to be unavailable. Her eyes caught his over her own goblet, she had very pretty eyes, he thought, and a full and luscious mouth. 

‘And what of your young companions?’ she asked and slid her husband a quick, surreptitious glance but he was holding forth about how clever he had been in selling the charters and making a huge profit from other people’s misfortune, Thalos could see some of the other merchants shared Thalos’ own view and were glancing at each other uncomfortably.

‘My young companions are exactly that,’ Thalos said smoothly but fixed her with an elven stare that would have made most people drop their gaze and shift. But not she. 

She lifted her glass again and drank from it deeply. ‘I am going to take a turn in the fresh air,’ she said suddenly and cast a quick look at Thalos. ‘Would you care to escort me?’

It would be churlish to refuse, he realised but nonetheless he said, ‘Much as I would enjoy your company and your beauty under the starlight, I fear that I cannot return to the Wood until my business is concluded here. Perhaps if we are swift, your husband and I might find you and watch the Moon over the Lake.’ He inclined his head a little curtly, enough to indicate to her that she wasted her time, but enough to appear courteous.

She flashed him a knowing smile. ‘Then goodnight, gentlemen.’ 

Her husband looked vaguely in her direction and gave a hearty laugh. ‘Yes my dear. And I will see you later.’ The leer he gave her was repellent but she merely tossed her head and left. For a moment Thalos considered: Legolas and Anglach were safely away and probably relieving he card-sharks of Esgaroth of their takings for the day and he had no worries that they could handle themselves if it turned ugly but he was less certain that they could handle themselves if the Mistress Briseis got hold of either of them. He was glad he had dismissed them earlier so she had not seen them- they would merely be a tasty snack to her, he thought. Later of course, he wished he had thought more and done more.

It was an hour or more before Thalos concluded a deal with the merchants from Dorwinion that pleased them both. The Master kept interfering and trying to establish his authority but in the end, that worked better for Thalos because the merchants were as irritated as he and the fact that they had a common enemy did much to quicken the bargain.

At last, the Master heaved his fat carcass out of the chair he was wedged into and fanned himself with his lace sleeve. ‘Well, my lord Thalos. I think we have time to wander down to the jetty and look at the Moon as you desired.’

Thalos began to protest but suddenly Frederick was there, looking up at him with beady, lascivious eyes and lay a hand upon Thalos’ sleeve. ‘Oh the Moon is very bright, Master. And the water very still.’

Thalos looked down at where Frederick had his sweating hand upon his sleeve, meaningfully. Frederick snatched it away as if he had been bitten but he remained half crouching obsequiously beside Thalos. Too close.

‘I insist you come for an evening stroll,’ the Master said. ‘And we have yet to decide on the final sum for our own little vexation.’

It was true and Thalos thought he could not bear to sped another day with this fool and his cringing servant so he agreed and with a polite farewell to the Dorwinions, he followed the Master out into the night air.

It still smelled of fish. 

The water was oily and black, lapping gently at the huge struts that were sunk deep into the lake and upon which the town was built. Above in the sky, the Moon was huge and tined with orange. It seemed closer for the Mountain loomed hugely over the Lake and its dark presence reflected in the still water.

‘Imagine all the wealth beneath the Mountain,’ the Master said suddenly. ‘The dwarves are very wealthy. They say the river runs with gold although we have yet to see it.’ He waved pompously at some beggar-man, ragged clothes and the pinched, mean face of the very poor. ‘If only the King would see his way to reducing the tax on goods from Esgaroth,’ he said in a wily manner. ‘You see the impact of the high tax. That poor man was never poor until the Autumn harvest turned bad and the rains washed out the harvest.

0o0o

‘There is pie or stew or soup in the kitchen for you,’ the unctuous servant, Frederick, told Anglach and Legolas. He leered up at them with wily subservience.

‘What’s in the pie?’ asked Anglach. Legolas glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

‘Fish,’ replied Frederick. Legolas sighed.

‘Oh, and the stew?’ Anglach asked.

‘Fish.’

‘And the soup… I am guessing that is fish too.’

‘How did you know?’

‘We are Elves,’ Legolas said with a straight face. ‘We just know.’

They were finishing their fish pie, which was surprisingly good, when Legolas saw movement outside the kitchen. 

Long dark hair, saucy eyes and curvy breasts and hips. Legolas’ cock gave a hopeful leap. It was the woman from the night before.

He gave Anglach a quick look. ‘It’s her!’ he hissed and pushed back his chair. 

Anglach craned his neck to see and when he caught sight of her, his eyes widened in alarm for he had seen the woman before, standing at the Masters’ side. ‘Legolas!’ he hissed, catching at his friend’s arm. But Legolas was already walking quickly towards the door and though he glanced back at Anglach, he did not stop.

‘Shit,’ said Anglach. He pushed his own chair back, wiping his mouth. ‘Legolas! She is….Legolas!’ He dared not call out in case he was heard and he clasped the door jamb and looked into the empty passage. But Legolas had disappeared into the shadowed hallway. Anglach hurried down the passageway after Legolas. He heard a muffled giggle and shuffle of feet and turned towards the sound. He trailed his hand against the wall as he went to keep his bearings, a trick they all learned in the Wood. But search though he might and with all his training in the Wood, he knew they had gone and he had no idea where.

0o0o0o


	7. Chapter 7: In which Legolas does something stupid and Anglach doesn’t stop him.

Chapter 7: In which Legolas does something stupid and Anglach doesn’t stop him.

It was unfortunate that Anglach did not find Legolas until everyone else had, and then it was far too late to warn him who Briseis was and who was her husband.

Briseis had dragged Legolas hurriedly through the sculleries and kitchen and then outside into a quiet courtyard at the side of the Master’s house. She had fumbled at him excitedly, plucking at the ties of his breeches impatiently. When Legolas glanced nervously behind him at the lit windows of the house, she laughed and called him a baby, wet behind the ears and afraid of a little danger.

Well that merely goaded him to show her he was not, and had he been less wet behind the ears in fact and his cock had not taken over his brain, he would have stopped and at least pulled her somewhere more discreet. As it was, she was in control, and he was enjoying being pressed against the high wall that enclosed the courtyard. Caught in the wanton wickedness of Briseis’ breasts and belly and her tongue in his mouth, Legolas panted. His cock was bursting and he had grabbed her buttocks through her skirts and was trying to pull the skirt up so he could reach more delicious parts of her.

The moans and insincere endearments that they gasped to each other, or rather he gasped and she bit him hard and licked and sucked at him, covered any other sounds that might have alerted them to the impending disaster.

0o0o

Thalos trailed behind the Master, bored. Bored of the endless bickering about taxes, as the Master called them and Dues as Thranduil called them. Either way, the Master thought himself a wily old fox no doubt, with his endless arguments that he thought clever and Thalos thought dull-witted and obvious. The man, Frederick, kept running back and forth like an over-excited dog, rubbing his sweaty hands together and bowing obsequiously, first a little ahead and then back to the Master, and the ahead. As if he were looking for something, thought Thalos, skilled in tracking and decyphering behavour of animals, orcs, and Men. He frowned but followed nevertheless, his head slightly on one side as he wondered what the servant was up to. Every now and again, Frederick would give a quick, excited glance at Thalos himself and then suddenly, he disappeared into a narrow alleyway.

Letting his hand drift lightly over his knife, Thalos wondered if the Master were fool enough to arrange an ambush on him, but why would he? He would gain nothing.

The water of the unimaginatively named Long Lake seemed black and oily under the moonlit sky, and ahead of them a burst of laughter and shouting from the square ahead. Thalos knew the market place must lie ahead and that it had been turned into a place of entertainment. 

‘Shall we take a stroll through the market palce,’ the Master said unctiously. ‘It is a place of entertainment when the suns goes down and there will be jugglers and bards. It is a place of.. local colour,’ he said as if he were proud of it. 

Legolas and Anglach were probably there, Thalos thought and hoped and trusted that they had kept their word that they would not play with the affections of any maids and that they were keeping their hands to themsleves and everything else tucked firmly away in their breeches as he had warned them.

Suddenly Frederick reappeared, his eyes wide and licking his lips in agitation. It was an unpleasant sight, thought Thalos for the Man’s lips were slack and wet. In Frederick’s hand was a rushlight and the flames flickered and a stream of ill black smoke streamed into the air. Frederick tugged at the Master’s sleeve and whsipered hurriedly. But Thalos, although he feigned ignorance, caught a few words. ‘…in the courtyard…his hand up her skirt…’ 

In the torchlight, the Master’s jowly face contorted in fury and Thalos winced and clasped his hands behind his back. He tipped his head back to look up at the cold stars. Briseis, he specualted for she had been more than attentive to one of the younger, rather handsome Dorwinion merchants and Thalos thought he knew all too well what had happened. And her daughters were too pretty and looked so different that he could well believe that not one of them shared a father.

The Master drew in a breath that seemed suddenly to make him seem bigger, and roared. ‘Where is she?’

Frederick cowered and cringed and his crooked teeth bared in a sort of nervous, appeasing grin. ‘In the courtyard, Master. Beside the brewery.’

‘Beside the brewery?’ The Master’s roar increased as if somehow the brewery were an even greater insult.

’I think you have some private business, Master, so I will depart from here,’ Thalos said qucikly, thinking that at least his two young companions were safely away from the House and its turbulent inhabitants. But he wanted to be sure and so began to back away.

‘She has gone too far!’ the Master seemed oblivious to Thalos’ presence and shook his head so his jowls wobbled furiiusly. ‘She has gone… too… far! I will have his head on a stake when I find out who it is!’ There was a violence in the Master’s eyes that made Thalos uneasy and he wondered exactly where Legolas and Anglach were. He remembered the look that had passed between his two companions and the daughters of the Master and was suddenly alarmed, for perhaps it was not the wife but the daughters. But the Master caught at Thalos’ arm and said vindictively, ‘You will be my witness, lord Thalos for I think this concerns you also.’

In a flurry of velvet and satin and lace, the Master swept Frederick out of his way and stormed through the dingy pasageways between the barrels of fish and tar.

Thalos swore. If Anglach and Legolas have been fondling the Master’s daughters, he would kill them, he promised himself, imagining the diplomatic fallout from such an incident. The Master would use this to get his own way on the dues for the river, he thought crossily.

Frederick scuttled ahead of them, beckoning them on and the torchlight cast his shadow hugely on the walls of the houses like some flapping, wounded crow that could not fly. ‘This way, Master. This way!’

‘Branwen!’ The Master cried, stopping so suddenly that Frederick crashed into him. 

‘ Master, that is Briniel,’ Frederick hissed helpfully, showing his yellow, crooked teeth.

Thalos followed the Man’s angry gaze and saw the girl’s face, red-cheeked and warm, her hair loose and mussed. She froze at her father’s cry and glanced anxiously over her shoulder, gesticulating at someone behind her. Thalos held his breath and of course, Anglach’s silly, hopeful face appeared, craning to look over her shoulder. Thalos groaned inwardly.

‘What is it, Briniel?’ Aglach asked the girl, oblivious to the danger. ‘Is it them?’

‘Briniel! Who is that with you?’ the Master bellowed and Anglach’s face changed in alarm. There was a muttered Elbereth’s tits as Anglach vanished swiftly into the shadowed passageway beyond. The Master with a roar, rushed after her, closely followed by Frederick.

But it was not Briniel dallying with Anglach that disturbed the master because when her pale figure turned quickly down one passageway, the Master turned down another.

And then they came out suddenly into a dank courtyard where it seemed the darkness huddled in the corners and clung to the edges of the house although the stones in the centre of the courtyard were silvered by the moonlight. No light peeped from below a single shutter for of course, the brewery was closed for the night and the high arched gates locked and barred. The only entance and exit was the one they came through now. 

From the soft shadows in the far corner came the sound of breathing, panting, and a small moan escaped. It was unmistakably the sound of sex and it had the Master stiffening and hurrying angrily towards it.

There was movement in the shadows and Thalos, used to the darkness of the Wood, made out the outline of a tall, lean man leaning back against the wall and in front of him was a hunched shape kneeling, hugging his thighs; Thalos knew, even before she looked up, it was Briseis. Her dress was pulled up around her thighs and pushed down over her shoulders so he coul dsee her full, round breasts.

‘Hussy!’ cried the Master as he rushed into the yard. 

The moon suddenly rode out from behind a cloud and the silvery light poured into the courtyard. It illuminated the pale hair of the man, his shocked face.

If it had not been so awful, Thalos would have laughed for the way his own face mirroried that of his little brother’s, for their mouths dropped open at exactly the same time as their eyes met over Briseis’ head. At the very same moment, a high, strangled cry came from behind him and Thalos, whirling round, saw the youngest daughter of the Master, Branwen, hands over her mouth and her face crumpled.

‘Legolas,’ she moaned in misery.

Thalos stared, first at the girl who rocked back on her feet, and covered her face with her hands as if heartbroken, and the woman, Briseis, who was struggling to her feet, fumbling at the bodice of her gown and smoothing her long hair down.

‘Wife!’ shouted the Master and he lumbered towards Briseis, his hand lifted and he struck at her. ‘Whore!’

But his fist never struck her for Thalos stepped forwad and caught the Man’s fist before he could land the blow either at Legolas or his wife. 

Chaos erupted. The Master turned furiously upon Thalos. ‘How dare you, sir!’ he bellowed with rage, spittle flew from his flabby lips and his eyes were bulging with anger. Frederick, crouching at his Master’s feet, flailed ineffectually at Thalos’ ankles. Briseis shoved past her husband but as she ran past Branwen, her daughter raised her hand and slapped Briseis hard across the face. 

‘How dare you!’ Briseis shouted at her daughter and lifted her own hand and gave Branwen a stinging slap back. Branwen’s hand flew to her face and she gasped. Legolas stood appalled and miserable. And then Anglach arrived with Briniel trailing behind, eyes wide with excitment and stupid astonishment. She glanced at her sister, quivering with rage and then at her mother’s face, red with the stinging blow. Briseis’ hand clasped her cheek and her eyes were bright.

Briniel stared first at her sister and then her mother, and then quickly, she grasped her sister’s arm and tried to drag her away. ‘Come away, Branwen, you know what she is like,’ she hissed warningly. Branwen resisted for a moment and then, with a reproachful look at Legolas, she cried out and turned and fled.

Anglach grabbed at Legolas’ arm and pulled at him but Legolas pulled away and flung out a hand towards Thalos as if he would beseech him, but there was no mercy there. Thalos turned furious eyes upon him and snapped at Anglach. ‘Get him out of here. I will see you both at the Eglair’aint. You will wait for me there.’ He used the tone of command so they would not argue, and that they felt the weight of his displeasure. 

Thalos stared cooly at the Master, daring him to protest.

‘You are justly angry with your wife, Master,’ Thalos said in a hard, cold voice. ‘I am appalled, Sir, that you have so little control of your wife that you let her seduce one of my guards. He is innocent in the way of Men and was completely beguiled by her. I will retire now but I expect recompense, Master or you will hear more of this.’

‘She seduced him?’ The Master’s jowls wobbled furiously. ‘I think not. He looked hardly unwilling.’

Thalos knew of course that Legolas would have been positively leaping at the chance but he knew to press his advantage or the Master would take the position of wounded party and that was something the Elves could certainly not afford. 

‘The guard of whom you speak, sir,’ Thalos said, and if his voice was cold before, it was now glacial, ‘ is one of our youngest warriors. He has never even stepped foot out of the Wood before.’ He loaded his voice with suppressed fury and hardened his gaze so that the Man would quail. And he did. ‘I hardly think that one of our children,’ he used the word emphatically, ‘would be able to seduce one such as your wife, who set herself at me even before we had been introduced.’ He drew himself up so that he stood tall and elegant, otherworldly. ‘ You yourself have described her as a hussy. She has despoiled one of our children and that, Master, will not be looked upon favourably by the King.’

But the Master had not got where he was without being a wily old fox and now he spoke with vindictive glee.’ And what of my daughter, my lord? She is not yet sixteen and your child was certainly not seduced by her! Quite the opposite in fact for he has clearly broken her poor young heart.’

Thalos almost gasped. Not yet sixteen. Eru Iluvatar. He had no doubt that Legolas had been flirting with her, but surely he had done no more with such a child? But the Master had seen the sliver of doubt in Thalos’ face and pressed his advantage. ‘He has broken her heart it seems, my darling girl who is more precious to me that gold.’

‘You did not even know her name,’ Thalos countered but he knew he was going to lose this one. ‘It seems we are both the injured party, one by the other. So, Master, how do we repair?’

‘He must marry my daughter of course!’ the Master declared in outrage.

Thalos was appalled. ‘No indeed, sir! It would be a loveless marriage and both will be miserable. She as she ages and watches her husband remain ever young and fair, and he watching her miserably fade into old age and die. No. You do not wish that upon either of them.’

‘Then you must increase her dowry for she is spoiled now for any suitable young Man.’

‘She is hardly spoiled,’ countered Thalos. ‘They have barely even held hands and my young ward was definitely spoiled by your wife!’ He loaded his voice with indignation and outrage to match the Master’s but both knew this was mere haggling.

Eventually Thalos was able to agree a small compensation for Branwen’s broekn heart, for Thalos had seen the distress on the girl’s face and thought it real, and the Master gave a small concession to the demands Thalos made regarding the repair of the waterways. But it was less than he had wanted and the trust that he had hoped to build between himself and the Men of Laketown was certainly not improved.

But more than that he was appalled at the lack of discretion of his brother and knew it would have to go before the Officers Court. 

00o0o0o

Next morning, the leave he took of the Master was stiff and formal, a far cry from their effusive welcome. And none of the daughters nor the mother were anywhere in sight. 

Relieved to be away from the dingy town and back in the green woods that lined the river, he made his way slowly towards the wide, foaming rapids where he would find Anglach and Legolas. He walked slowly, trying to calm himself and to leave the anger he felt behind. But he could not.

His disappointment in the behaviour of two of his guard was great and he knew that the dishonour would be keenly felt back at the stronghold, by everyone from King to officers.

Their little camp was meagre as he had expected and both looked like they had not slept. But when Legolas tried to speak, his face miserable and hand outstretched, Thalos merely stared at him with the same coldness he had visited upon the Master.

‘Do not speak,’ he rapped out. ‘You, Legolas, are in disgrace.’ He shook his head in disbelief again. ‘She is a child! Not even sixteen. Did you know?’

And when Legolas looked as appalled as Thalos felt, he wondered if the Master had been quite truthful.

‘I swear I did not know. She acted so much older…She knew…’ Legolas stopped and looked away. ‘It doesn’t matter. I should have relaised.’ He swallowed. ‘And I had promised to you that I would not…’

Thalos glared at his little brother’s bent head for he stared at the ground and picked at his sleeve. ‘I persuaded the King to let you come with me,’ he said bitterly and he swore softly. Then he turned to Anglach in case he thought he was free from blame. And you too, Anglach for you did more with the younger daughter than Legolas with the youngest.’

‘But not as much as he did with the mother!’ Anglach burst out.

Legolas gave him a look of anguish and Anglach immediately shook his head. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean that. Legolas.’

But Legolas had already gone, sweeping up into the branches of a friendly oak tree that reached down to gather him up.

Thalos pressed his lips together. He felt the stir of anger in his belly; they had disgraced themselves and him. They had let him down for he had stood surety to Thranduil of their good behaviour so he joined their disgrace. And Anglach seemed unrepentant. ‘Wait until I get you back to the King and the Commander,’ he promised them both. ‘Laersul also pleaded for you to go and you have disappointed both of us, brought my judgment into question too.’

The journey back was a somber and miserable one. The river seemed as out of sorts as they and the heavy rain over the previous days and the sleek, smooth river had become a torrent that they battled against and drenched them. The clouds loured over the Mirkwood Mountains and it was dull and grey.

When the gates to the Woodland realm came within sight and the little jetty that they had left in such high spirits only a few days ago, Anglach was chattering in his nervous anxiety, and Legolas was silent, picking at the sleeves of his tunic and his face was pale. If Thalos had not been so angry, he would have pitied them both. But he was still angry that they had not restrained themselves, and they had promised him that they would. They had betrayed his trust and he wondered how on earth they would all recover from this.

0o0o


	8. Punishment

Chapter 8: Punished

They pulled the boat in and tied it along the jetty with other little boats, all cheerfully bumping against each other in the sunshine as if nothing had happened and it was as bright as day as when they had left. But the mood of the three elves was very different. Legolas was miserable and angry, his fingers picking at the thread on his sleeve in nervous anticipation, and Anglach cringed like a scolded puppy, head hanging and eyes downcast. 

Thalos was unrelenting, dismissing the two with cold authority and confining them to barracks until the King and Command had heard the story and decided what to do.

‘Go to the Throne room. The King will have to hear of this before anyone else.’ He saw Anglach’s shoulders sink and the ramrod stiffening of Legolas’ spine at the thought of Thranduil’s displeasure. ‘If he hears it from anyone else, and you are not there, it will be worse,’ he told them and both nodded, knowing this was true. ’If this had been in the East Bite, or in the shadows of Dol Guldur…’ Thalos started but fury choked him and he turned from them, waving his hand at them in dismissal.

‘That is unfair, ‘ Legolas spluttered. ‘We have NEVER given anyone cause to doubt us in the field. When have we ever…’ His fists were bunched and his face stiff and angry.

‘Legolas,’ Anglach murmured and tugged at his friend’s sleeve. ‘Thalos knows that…but we have been fools.’

‘I have been a fool, you mean,’ Legolas blurted the words out bitterly. ‘It should just be me then that pays. Anglach did nothing.’

‘Anglach did as you, Legolas. Just not with the Master’s wife! And it was not Anglach that not cost me the deal I had agreed. You cost the Wood. And that is unforgivable.’ 

Legolas flinched and shame bowed his head but Thalos could not stop now. ‘I showed faith in you and you…you let ME down. If you can forget all your training, behave like naughty children HERE where it is safe, how can I trust you in the Bight, where one never knows when orcs might raid, or the Shadows might appear.’

An image then: swollen, bloody face, eyes swollen shut… no. Not shut. Empty. Lips…ears cut off. 

He reeled, everything slipped to one side and he threw out a hand to steady himself against the wooden post of the jetty. Anglach? Was that Anglach?

He spun round in sudden panic but there was Anglach, hunched beside Legolas. Neither spoke. 

‘Go!’ He flung his hand out in a gesture that too like throwing them away and both flinched. He watched them walk away, Legolas angry and stiff, Anglach hunched with misery that the King, Laersul and Thalos disapproved of him.

Thalos put a hand over his eyes for a moment and breathed. That image… Anglach…Was that merely a fear, or was it a warning?

I will tell Ada, he resolved. For Thranduil had insight and was connected to the Wood in some deep way. He would see if there was Truth in this, a vision, or just the fear for his warriors that had made Thalos imagine.

It almost made him relent.

He turned away, greeting the elves who unloaded goods from the rafts and who kept the jetty in good order.

‘My lord,’ one of them called him back. In his hand were some small goods and he held them out to Thalos. ‘These were in the bottom of the boat, my lord.’

There were a strange motley collection of packets and bags which clinked and rustled. He peered inside one bag to see a twist of paper, a brass-copper wheel of some sort and a leather vambrace. 

‘There are these too,’ said another elf. He held out a strange collection of tubes and bottles of coloured glass and with strange patterns and etchings. Thalos took them carefully, wondering what in all of the Wood Legolas and Anglach had been up to whilst he was so carefully treading the diplomatic line with the Master. Only to have their great hobnail boots thumping all over it, he thought angrily. He almost ditched the lot into the river but he gathered them up into his arms instead and strode angrily towards the small arched gateway that led into the garden and then the stronghold. For there was more than one way into the stronghold of course.

He dumped the strange collection onto his own bed and then sighed. The King needed to know what had happened for Thalos had not been able to strike the deal they had hoped for because he had to mollify the Master’s supposedly hurt feelings, the blight upon his honour.

And it could not wait.

There was a brief knock on the door of his apartment and even as he turned, the door opened and Galion hurried in, his face anxious and worried.  
‘What have they done? Your father is waiting in the Throne Room. He doesn’t know anything yet, he thinks to merely welcome you all back. Shall I warn him?’

Thalos sighed. ‘No. Come with me and you can hear all. Best not to keep him waiting. It will anger him more though frankly, I cannot think he can be any angrier when he hears what they have done.’

Galion paled and worried his lip. ‘That bad? Worse than the toad in Thranduil’s pocket because Anglach thought he was lonely?’ 

Thalos nodded. ‘Much worse.’

‘The spiderling they brought home to train as the Ultimate Weapon?’

‘Galion, nothing comes close. Let us go and not keep him waiting.’

Galion scurried ahead and when they arrived at the Throne Room, Legolas and Anglach were already there waiting, heads bowed and Legolas evading Thalos and even Galion’s eyes. Galion patted his arm as they passed and for a moment, it looked like Legolas might break but he steeled himself and followed Thalos into their father’s presence.

Thranduil’s smile blazed over his handsome face, his slate-green eyes filled with delight to see his sons and he threw out his arms to embrace them.

Thalos wanted to step into his father’s embrace with the same feeling he had always done, of relief, a sense of safety, that here was someone who would take care of everything…

Except he was older and knew this was only a feeling.

‘My lord,’ he said and instantly Thranduil moved back to look at him. ‘Something has happened.’ 

‘I have to report something.’ Thalos swallowed. 

Thranduil’s gaze hardened and he listened.

He listened at first with increasingly cold disapproval but as Thalos relayed the briefest facts, he could see his father’s slate green gaze grow heavier as it fell upon Legolas, who stood uncomfortably, eyes squeezed shut and picking at his sleeve. Usually he or Thranduil would have reached out and smoothed their fingers over the loose threads, murmured soothing words. But Thranduil’s cold was now a frightening stillness, a silence that merely heralded an eruption any moment.

‘…The Master agreed a sum in recompense to the perceived damage of his daughter’s reputation, my lord, and he agreed to a very small increase on the Dues in acknowledgement for the dishonour brought upon the king’s guard by the Master’s wife.’

As Thalos ended the sorry tale, Thranduil moved, snorting with disparagement and contempt. He glared at Legolas, who twitched under the gaze and looked so miserable that Thalos almost relented. ‘It is a disgrace to my House,’ Thranduil said slowly so that every word sank and penetrated. ‘You, Legolas, were given a trust as a guard of the Wood’s Envoy, a sign of favour and high regard. And how have you repaid that trust? With arrogant disregard. With utter contempt for your commander’s instruction, for his as the Envoy. You have made fools of us.’ His voice was dangerously low. 

Thalos caught a glimpse of Anglach, looking at Legolas first with anxious worry, and then at Thranduil with miserable shame. He would be utterly destroyed that Thranduil was angry with them, well, with Legolas, Thalos acknowledged. And that was a little unfair since Anglach was almost as culpable as Legolas.

‘I do need to add, my lord, that Anglach was also involved. The second youngest daughter and he were…’ He paused and wondered hat exactly had happened. ‘Well suffice to say they were also close.’

But Thranduil’s eyes softened when he saw Anglach’s utter devastation. ‘And what does that mean, close? Anglach, did you overstep any boundaries or force your attentions on the young woman concerned?’

Anglach lifted his guileless gaze up to the King’s. ‘I think I may have done, my lord. Although she was more than willing, In fact, I didn’t really do anything she did all the touching. She had her hands…’

Legolas suddenly interrupted, ‘My lord, they pursued us. There was certainly nothing unwilling and Anglach merely kissed Briniel.’ He had stepped slightly in front of Anglach, as if taking the brunt of Thranduil’s anger, and Thalos suddenly remembered how gallant Legolas was in the Bight.

With an inward sigh, Thalos stepped between Anglach and Thranduil. ‘My lord. It is true that these young women were very forward and predatory. I do think they were taking advantage of naivety and innocence.’

Thranduil stared at Thalos as if he had sprouted wings.

‘And they meant well…’ he floundered, wondering why they all felt such a need to protect Anglach from any sort of harm.

Slowly Thranduil rose to his feet in a powerful and slow manner that Thalos recognised as moving into a position of power.

Shit, he thought. We’re all for it. ‘My lord,’ he said, ’May we speak in council.’

Thranduil’s slate-green eyes bored into Thalos with penetrating understanding. He narrowed his eyes and said with dangerous softness, ‘You two are to return to barracks and report there, while I discuss this with the Envoy you were supposed be guarding. Fortunately he was not subject to attack or assassination. If he had, neither of you would have been there to protect him and whilst I do not doubt our Envoy’s ability, he would have been on his own to do so.’

Anglach gave a small cry and Legolas threw a departing glance towards Thalos and shoved Anglach before him.

o0o0o

Anglach sat on hard narrow bed in the little room they shared in the barracks when on duty. They said little to each other and it was not long before Ceredir appeared, his face school to stillness and worry in his eyes.

‘I don’t know what you’ve done to deserve this,’ Ceredir murmured as he delivered two trays of meagre rations, ‘but you might want to know that Laersul is home as well.’

Anglach gave a moan. Laersul had praised him only two weeks ago for his scouting in the East Reach of the Woods and to be reprimanded when he was still basking in Laersul’s approval was bitter and deepened his misery. Legolas threw himself back against the bed and covered his eyes with his forearm for it was so rare that they were all together in the stronghold and the King’s disappointment would be keen. He would be deprived of the joy of having all his sons together for a brief while, Anglach thought sadly.

There was a scuff of feet in the stone passageway and Ceredir quickly stood aside and to attention and Anglach’s heart sank. 

Galadhon stood in sombre uniform, formal and his face stony. ‘You are called for,’ he said brusquely. ‘The Commanders await you in their office.’ Galadhon barely looked at them, his lips thin and his eyes sharp.

They were marched across the stone courtyard like they were prisoners. Legolas was stiff and angry, but that was because he felt guilty and nervous, thought Anglach who knew his friend well.

The moment they arrived, the door was flung open and Lagorúthon stood there, his face hard and flinty. 

‘We are doomed,’ Legolas murmured and Anglach moaned quietly, for Lagorúthon was the man who had taken the soft, raw children who arrived at the barracks with visions of themselves as heroes, and showed them they were fools. And when at last they realised they should be running for their lives, he showed them how to stand, how to fight, how to shoot, ride, and indeed run and hide when that was indeed the better part of valour. He moulded them into warriors capable of withstanding the shadows in Dol Guldur, the spiders, the orcs of the mountains. And Lagorúthon himself was more terrifying than any shadow, and better respected than many with higher rank. He was a fearsome warrior himself, with a thin-bladed wit and deserved his name for swift anger. 

Anglach swallowed. Lagorúthon would think they had brought dishonour upon him as well as themselves.

’Well. Here are the children who think they can guard the King!’ he exclaimed with a furious sarcasm. He jerked his head towards the open door, glaring at them and it is fair to say that they scuttled in like frightened rabbits.

Inside, the office was lit with the amber lights that were used within all of the stronghold but because this was Command, it was deeper than other chambers, and there were also oil lamps giving a warmth that neither Anglach nor, he was sure, Legolas felt. A group of officers were gathered around one end of a large oval table, a map was spread over it and at first the officers were looking down at it and pointing at various things. They were deep in conversation. 

As first Legolas, and then Anglach entered, each of the officers looked up and fell silent. Slowly they moved, took their seats around the table in silence.

Thalos was already there and Galadhon went to join him. Lagorúthon also walked away from them leaving them alone on one side of the table.

And then Anglach’s heart sank even further for he saw now that Laersul was also amongst them and the disappointment on his face was evident. Anglach gave a little squeak and Legolas turned his head slightly towards him.

Lagorúthon pulled a chair noisily from under the table and thumped heavily into it, arms folded across his chest and stretched his legs out, scowling at them. ‘Stand to attention!’ he barked. ‘Your elders and betters are in attendance.’

Discipline in the Wood was different from the usual stiff military formation of the armies of Men and Noldor, but every Woodelf knew when to do exactly as Lagorúthon ordered and this was one. It is worse than I thought, Anglach whined to himself and knew that he was in more trouble because it was Legolas who had erred. If it had been Silarôs, or even Naurion they would not have been summoned like this, he was sure.

Now the other officers moved and took chairs and seated themselves and Anglach saw that not only Laersul but Thalos too was there. He laid a sideways look at Legolas who stood motionless and eyes front, at a point above Laersul’s head.

0o0o

Legolas leaned back against the hard pillow and covered his eyes with his arm. His mortification was absolute. The sunlight moved slowly over the floor and dust motes floated in the air. It was dusk when he moved next and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He sat for an age, head still in his hands. It had been one of the worst days of his life.

Earlier, he and Anglach had had to stand to attention in silence while Thalos told in brief severity the facts of what had happened. There had followed an interrogation that had been gruelling, not because they had been beaten but the commanders, those he admired and had fought alongside, who had trusted him and whom he had trusted, had relentlessly asked question after question until there was nothing else to tell.

And then they had been sent away in disgrace for the officers to decide what should happen and when they were called back, the shame had been unbearable for it had been Laersul himself who had pushed back his chair and leaned his hands flat upon the table, lifting his eyes to Legolas’.

‘Hand over your insignia,’ Laersul had said quietly.

His insignia? Legolas had shot a look at Laersul for it was Laersul himself that had given the badge of lieutenent. This was worse than anything Legolas could imagine.

Shamefully his fingers scrabbled at the badge that Laersul himself had pinned upon Legolas’ tunic with such pride. His hand closed over it and he allowed it to dig into his palm before he dropped it quietly on the table beside Anglach’s and then looked down at the floor, wishing it would crack open and he could slide between the planks and scurry away into the grass.

But Laersul had not finished.

’Legolas Thranduillion, your rank is reduced and you are to remain here in the stronghold until you earn back the trust you so carelessly threw away. You broke your word to your captain.’ Laersul said with a look of such disappointment that Legolas thought perhaps Laersul felt the loss of his insignia even more than Legolas himself. Shame burned through him, hot, his neck and back and cheeks scorched.

Laersul placed his palm carefully over the badge as if he sought to capture the warmth from Legolas’ breast. Then he snapped it up between his fingers and held it for a moment before Legolas like a promise. ‘Until you recover your honour.’

0o0o


	9. Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and not supposed tobe in the Sons of Thunder arc but in the Mirkwood Tales arc, which is sillier and certainly less wise.

Just hoping this silly little tale cheers everyone up in these dark times.

Chapter 9: Reprieve

It had been a week since Anglach and Legolas had been demoted and Legolas was mucking out, grooming the officers’ horses, cleaning the latrines, all the things the recruits did usually. And he did all this with the recruits, knowing that they were curious, that they were a little bit in awe too and that gossip and speculation was rife. But the officers never spoke, and anyone who knew loved him and Anglach, and they would not speak of it either. So it remained a mystery and was a rich source of gossip in the stronghold. Most of the rumours were suspiciously close to the truth because it was not hard to guess what Legolas and Anglach could have done to earn such displeasure.

Anyway, all the patrols were out, Legolas’ own battalion had left again for the East Bite, and the Northern patrol had asked for reinforcements when a spider colony had been found and they needed to burn it out. The Western patrol was even now crossing the edge of the Wood to reach the colony. That left very few in the stronghold and when reports came of a cold drake near the Mountains, Galadhon had taken a scouting party of twenty soldiers to investigate. He had not taken Anglach or Legolas who would have been the perfect choice, for they were both excellent scouts and had experience of a cold drake back in the hard Winter of two centuries ago. But it meant that there were only recruits and a few novices, and Anglach and Legolas still in the stronghold. Lagorúthon was the only remaining officer and he was training the recruits. But no one expected anything to happen and the Western patrol was not expected to be more than a few days out.

Legolas caught sight of Anglach lugging a heavy bucket across the courtyard, and felt guilty that Anglach was sharing his punishment. A soft whicker interrupted him and he stroked the nose of Gwilileth the Tenth, a sweet mare he had had from a foal, bred from Gwilileth the Ninth. 

He dug the fork into the straw bedding and heaved it into a wheelbarrow, thinking that he might be able to live in the barracks until the End of Days and so avoid the fury of his father for the rest of his life. Maybe he could leave and journey to Imladris where no one knew him, he thought, imagining himself riding into the Valley in the midst of some terrible attack and perhaps saving Glorfindel himself, or the Sons of Thunder, riding alongside them and his bow killing an orc chieftain that was about to swipe off the noble head of Glorfindel.

He was quite pleasantly occupied with thinking how heroic he might be when a shout rang out and all the men in the yards came out, emerging quickly from the various building. Lagorúthon emerged, wiping his hands on a cloth and looking towards the Gates with narrowed eyes.

All was still for a moment when suddenly a man burst through the gate, almost stumbling. It was Ferendir, a young recruit who had been standing guard at the Gates.

‘Quick! Lagorúthon! The scouting party has been attacked!’

Legolas threw a look at Anglach and they both started running at the same time as Lagorúthon. 

‘Taranis has returned. They are surrounded by a horde of orcs and need help!’

Lagorúthon was instantly in command. He cast his gaze about and found Legolas and Anglach. ‘Get twenty men,’ he ordered. ‘Horse them. Meet me at the gates.’ He strode away swiftly, while Legolas and Anglach turned to the youngsters who were staring at them in the same excitement and shock that Legolas himself remembered from his first raid. 

‘Get them armed,’ he said briefly. He jerked his head at Anglach. ‘You do the horses. I’ll do the men.’

Anglach gave a brief nod and trotted off towards the stables, shouting and gesturing to the stable hands as he did.

Legolas strode quickly into the armoury and gathered his recruits around him. They stood at first, staring up and down the rows of swords and shields as if they had never seen them before.

‘Do not be ashamed of being afraid,’ he said to them first. ‘It is a good thing. It keeps you alive. But you must not let it conquer you, that is all.’ He looked at them seriously, hoping that he was enough to give them that confidence. ‘You have learned everything you need, you have been taught by the best. Lagorúthon IS the best. You need a bow, quiver, sword and knives,’ he ordered and chose those things for himself so that they would follow his suit. Sure enough they began to stir. ’Quickly. Check the quivers are full. Swords sharp. Knives whetted. If they are not, choose another,’ he barked. He caught one boy who seemed frozen, barely old enough to be here and pushed him towards the leather armour. ‘Breastplate and greaves,’ he snapped, frightened at how young then were. ‘You do not have time for anything else. We need swiftness not heavy armour. Come on, our comrades are in danger! It is for us to rescue them!’

It seemed to stir them for they began to bundle themselves sup then and select weapons that suited their height, weight and preference. In no time, he had a patrol kitted out and looking like they knew what they were about.

Horses were being led out by the stable boys, heads high and skittering around the boys in nervous excitement. Legolas caught his own dear Gwilileth the Tenth and leapt up on her, glancing at Anglach in concern. These boys were not ready, he thought. They had never been in battle. The did not know what they were facing.

Lagorúthon mounted his tall chestnut horse with a stern face. he wheeled about, gathering his recruits to him. ‘Our comrades, our friends are beleaguered and beset,’ he cried. ‘To rescue!’

They streamed out of the stronghold over the bridge and along the grassy tracks through the Woods.

‘Orcs attacked them early morning,’ Lagorúthon shouted to Legolas as they galloped alongside each other. ‘They were ambushed or should never have been so beset. Take three ahead and scout, Legolas. Send two back, not one, they are too raw. Anglach, I need you here.’

Legolas nodded and cast a quick gaze over the youngsters with him, their ruddy faces and excited eyes told him they knew nothing about what faced them although everyone in the Wood knew about orc attacks. They had all heard, or seen themselves the bloody massacres. But this was different. This was going out to find orcs, to fight. He gestured to three of them, Hannas, Geren and Sulis. They looked at him with excitement and he veered away from the main group and headed swiftly past Anglach for Gwiilieth was the fastest horse in the King’s mews. The three boys followed.

They sped through the forest, well beyond the realm and into the deep woods below the mountains of Mirkwood as they were known. Legolas was listening all the time, or battle, for dissonance, for the sing of metal.

They fled along the path until at last they smelled smoke and Legolas pulled up, Gwilileth’s flanks were heaving and there was foam on her neck from sweat. ‘Listen,’ he said to the boys. ‘We have to have stealth now. Into the trees with you and let the horses stay here. They know what to do and you must do exactly as I tell you. Our aim is to get information, not to engage the enemy. Do you understand?’ Geren was looking excitedly past Legolas and he knew the boy was not listening. ‘Geren!’ he snapped. The boy flashed a look at him. ‘You will do as I say or I will leave you here.’

Geren nodded and blinked. 

‘The first time you see battle,’ Legolas said softly, ‘it is terrifying, and exciting all at once. Do not lose yourself in it. Be afraid as well.’

And at this, he leapt up into the trees, reaching for the smooth branches and running lightly along the branches. Below him, the horses veered away from the danger but within whistling distance as they were trained. But the Elves could travel swiftly now and in no time they heard battle.

Legolas held up his hand and Hannas almost ran into him. He glared at the boy. ‘Listen. Battle ahead. Keep your wits about you. Orcs are stupid but they are cunning and very cruel.’ He glanced at the youngsters with him and stifled a sigh. ‘All you are to do is see what the situation is and relay that to me. Do you understand? You are not to engage the enemy under any circumstances. You risk the whole rescue if you do.’ He glared at them for emphasis. ‘Sulis, Hannas, ease around to the west, beyond the hill and see what you can find out. Geren, come with me.’

Sulis was a Silvan and Legolas had hunted with him before, impressed with his stealth and steady head. Sulis nodded once and he and Hannas made their way into the deep cover of the trees and Geren followed Legolas towards the battle.

Through the shifting leaves, Legolas could see the battle. The Elves of the Wood were clustered together, in a standard defensive circle and holding off the orcs, a band of about thirty, he guessed. The Elves were standing up well to the attack and he saw that they were seasoned and able soldiers with whom he had fought often, and although battle was fierce, he did not think they were going to be breached quickly. But he could not see Galadhon and wondered if the reason for the circle was that Galadhon was injured and they had circled protectively around him. 

‘I cannot see Galadhon, ‘ he murmured to Geren.

‘Nor I,’ replied Geren. ‘Do you think he is in the middle of the circle. maybe injured?’

Legolas grunted a reply. yes, that could be. Together, they turned and hurried back to where Sulis and Hannas waited. Legolas was relieved to see that they had been swift and obedient.

‘We did not see any horses,’ Sulis said breathlessly. ‘There are no orcs either on the western side. It is clear.’

‘Good,’ Legolas said. ‘Then we can tell Lagorúthon to approach from that side. He will take them unawares and cut off their escape.’

Hannas’ face pale and frightened but he spoke calmly nonetheless. ‘Another ten orcs have broken off though. It is marshy and they are wading through water.’

‘Ten? Are you sure?’ Legolas asked, thinking quickly. He frowned. ‘We did not see Galadhon.’ Perhaps he has been separated and they hunt for him.’ He grasped Geren by the shoulder. ‘Go back to Lagorúthon and tell him what we have seen. Tell him to come by the western hillside so they come to our men quickly and will be on the blind side of the orcs. Tell him that Sulis and I are going after the hunters.’ He looked at Hannas’ white face and added, ‘Go with Geren, Hannas. Be careful.’

Geren looked about to protest but the look Legolas gave him sent him scurrying back the way they had come and as he was told. Legolas gave Sulis a quick grin. ‘Fancy bagging a few orcs young Sulis? Something to tell that pretty maid you have been courting?’

Sulis grinned back and strung his bow. ‘There are ten, are there? That is four for an old man like you and I will get six.”

Legolas lifted his eyebrows and laughed softly. ‘Even so, this is battle. Do nothing I do not tell you. Do not engage the enemy unless I tell you. We are on a rescue, not an engagement. Do you understand?’

It took no time at all to find themselves on the edge of the trees where the margins of the river spread out and made the ground marshy and in some places the water was thigh-deep. There were willow and alders along the edge of the marsh but further in to the marsh, the trees thinned and became scrub and brush only. Here were deep reed beds and it difficult to see how they would keep in cover. Legolas was just turning to Sulis to explain that when suddenly two orcs emerged from the thick reeds, noisily wading towards the firmer ground. He could see that the orcs were dragging something heavy through the water, laughing and shouting. 

Then the heavy weight splashed into the water and was heaved up by the orcs to much jeering. Legolas gasped. It was Galadhon.

Galadhon stumbled and fell between the orcs and they jeered and hit him, and dragged him upright again. He was clearly injured, his face swollen, a bloody pulpy mess and his eyes had closed over with swelling.

Legolas cursed, but there were only two orcs and he could not see where the other orcs were that Geren had reported. He craned his neck to see where the rest of the band was when suddenly one of the orcs fell to the ground with an arrow in its chest and the other stood upright, snout upraised. Legolas swore and shot it before it could cry out a warning.

‘Think I win first blood.’ Sulis grinned at him impudently.

‘Idiot!’ Legolas snapped furiously. ‘ This is not a game! You have alerted any others now to our presence.’

Legolas shoved him back behind the trunk of the tree just as the remainder of the orcs came wading through the marshy water, crossbows held before them and alert, snouts flared and piggy eyes searching. They rushed forwards, snarling and shouting, one grabbed Galadhon who was struggling in the thigh deep water and dragged him forwards. Another suddenly pointed and a thick black bolt thunked into the wood beside them

‘Fuck,’ said Legolas, glaring at Sulis who looked frightened and ashamed. 

The orcs were hurrying through the water now, two dragging Galadhon, the rest had their crossbows raised and were coming towards the trees where Legolas and Sulis were hiding. He glanced at Sulis’ frightened face, his hand wobbling a little and cursed silently. He could not leave Galadhon.

‘Get back along there,’ he hissed and pointed along the branches and through the trees where they had come. ‘Get as high as you can.’

‘What about you?’ Sulis asked anxiously.

Legolas breathed. ‘Galadhon is my captain. He saved my life.’

‘Let me help,’ Sulis asked, eyes wide and frightened, hand shaking slightly. Legolas winced, but he remembered his first encounter with orcs and it was not unlike this.

‘Get back up there like I said,’ he told the boy. ‘Get something hard and throw it anywhere but where you are, or where I am. Orcs are very stupid.’

Sulis nodded and turned and silently hurried through the trees, leaving barely a ripple of leaf or tremor of branch.

Legolas turned back and dodged around the trunk so he was hidden and the orcs rushed onwards, firing bolts up into the tree where he and Sulis had been moments ago.

There were six orcs plus the two that had Galadhon and Legolas was not fool enough to think that he could kill all of them without them simply slitting Galdahon’s throat. He swore roundly to himself.

He had no choice but to get onto the ground and kill the orcs that had Galadhon first. He gave a high -pitched whistle that would be far too high for the orcs to hear and listened for a similar whistle back to show that Sulis was in position and any moment now would distract the orcs below.

Sure enough, a crack sounded from a large boulder that stuck out of the march far enough away from Legolas that the orcs immediately swiveled about and then rushed towards the sound. Legolas slid silently to the ground and ran, stooping towards the scrubby bushes. He skulked around the edge of the water, his feet sinking a little in the boggy moss and soft grass. His bow was slung on his back and he drew his knives, crept towards the two orcs that had Galadhon.

Galdahon’s face was swollen and his eyes were slits in a bruised mess of his face. Blood smeared over his chin and a dark stain spread over his tunic. But he had heard the whistle and was lying very still between the two orcs.

Legolas crept stealthily, silently towards them whilst they were staring towards the other orcs who were stamping their feet and looking up into the trees where the noise had come from. He was close now, close enough that Galadhon had noticed him and the gleam of his eyes showed through the bruised swelling.

‘Better to ‘ave two of them treecreepers,’ one orc was saying. ‘Doesn’t matter then if you kill one of ‘em as long as the Gûlwas has one, it don’t mind too much what else you does.’

‘Ghashnik won’t share though,’ said the other resentfully.

It was the last thing it said for suddenly its head fell off and the other stared down at the knife in its belly.

Galadhon did not make a sound as Legolas pulled the wounded elf’s arm over his own shoulder and lifted the battered body into his arms and quickly pushed his way into the scrub. He lifted his feet high so he did not make a sound in the water though Galadhon was no light weight and his teeth were clenched again the pain.

‘I cannot get into the trees,’ Galadhon muttered quietly.

‘Then I shall have to leave you here while I kill the bastards,’ he whispered back, struggling to keep Galadhon on his feet enough to get them hidden in a dense thicket he had spotted. He ducked Galadhon beneath a mat of low growing brambles and alders and suddenly they were hidden. Legolas silently lifted one twig after another and eased Galadhon deeper into the thicket.

‘I have to get back out there,’ Legolas whispered. ‘There is a youngster up there in the trees and I cannot leave him.’ Galadhon shot him an anxious look and nodded but did not speak and Legolas ducked back under the low branches and as he ran, stooping, he reached for his bow and was already fitting an arrow when he emerged from the thicket and crouched behind a boulder and listened to the hard stamp of the orcs. Three, four, five, he counted. Where is the sixth?

And then suddenly there was a cry of triumph and cruel laughter. He peered round the boulder and saw that the orcs had spotted Sulis and were jeering and laughing.

‘Well boys, looks like we got another one of those funny little songbirds,’ called one of the orcs

‘Let’s see if we can’t bring him down then!’ shouted another and took aim. The first orc was already climbing into the tree, knife between its teeth.

Instantly Legolas was on his feet, one arrow pierced the throat of one and his second was in the eye of another orc before any of them had even realised what was happening. As one orc turned to fire at Legolas, it fell with Sulis’ arrow in its back. Legolas had time to shoot one more before the rest were too close for arrows and he cast his bow to the side and pulled out his knives, in one swoop he cut through the throat of one and slashed up and down the other which was pounding towards him. His knife was so deeply embedded in the orc’s body, it pulled out of his hand and quivered in the orc’s body. Just as he looked upwards, the body of the fifth landed with a thud at his feet, Sulis’ knife in his chest.

He turned quickly, knives drawn. Where was the sixth?

There was a cry and he saw the last orc. It was near the thicket where he had left Galadhon. Without a thought, he hurled his knife at the orc and even as it bent to force its way in after Galadhon, it lurched forwards with Legolas’ knife in its back.

‘Well…’said a hard voice, with malicious delight. ‘Looks like you ain’t got any weapons left.’ 

Seven? There had been even… Geren had missed one.

Legolas turned slowly, he had no weapon left.

The orc had a crossbow and a thick bolt was waiting to be fired.

‘Now would be a good time!’ Legolas called. 

It was enough to make the orc hesitate, just long enough for Sulis to miss his mark but Legolas leapt at the orc, scooping up the missed arrow and jamming it into the orc’s eye. It screamed and lurched forwards, clutching its face.

‘Stay in the trees!’ Legolas shouted, knowing that Sulis would be wanting to come down and his eyes found the boy. He was clinging to the slender trunk of a willow, its long leaves hiding the boy. ‘Stay up there for now,’ he repeated, breathing hard but so relieved.

‘I don’t know where that last one came from,’ he explained, stooping quickly to gather Sulis’ missed arrows and pull his own from the flesh of the dead orcs. He came to the base of the tree and held the arrows up towards Sulis. ‘You can come and get these but then move. Don’t stay in one place now.’ he saw that Sulis was staring at him wide-eyed and frightened. ‘Listen to me,’ he said, trying to force Sulis’ starring eyes to focus upon him, Legolas. ‘Listen. Battle is in your blood now, it will give you energy for a while longer but then it will suddenly leave you. You must be ready for that. You will feel exhausted. When that happens, sit down in the trees, hold on and wait for me.’

Sulis nodded, eyes fixed upon Legolas.

‘Right. Good. Get back up there and keep alert. You are on guard for me. I am going to get Galadhon and move him, try and get him somewhere safe. All right?’

At last Legolas felt they were far enough away from any danger that he could send Sulis on ahead to get help and give messages to Lagorúthon whilst Legolas himself carried Galadhon through the Wood. He stopped often to give the man water, to check his breathing and try to staunch the bleeding, but although Galadhon had been beaten severely and he could barely walk, he was not dangerously wounded.

0o0o

At last he heard voices and hoofbeats and some of Gallichon’s own patrol arrived, searching for them after Sulis had delivered Legolas’ message. Many of them Legolas knew well and had served with them and they were not at all surprised to find Legolas half carrying their captain.

He was relieved of his burden and leaned against his dear Gwilileth in sudden exhaustion. 

‘Feeling it now Thranduillion,’ said a voice.

Lagorúthon.

‘Yes captain,’ he said wearily. And smiled because Sulis was peering at him anxiously from behind the weathered soldier and the irony of it just hit Legolas as amusing and he wanted to laugh. Suddenly his legs felt weak and he wanted to sit down.

‘Are you just going to stand there, Legolas, or are you coming home?’ Anglach was suddenly there and grinning at him. He was filthy with black orc blood and a smudge of his own on his ear.

Legolas laughed a little hysterically. ‘Not if I have to look at your ugly mug all the way back,’ he said. But he felt like crying for only now did he realise how close they had come to disaster. That seventh orc… He cast a sideways glance out of his eye towards Geren who was sitting silently beside Hannas. Hannas looked ashamed and would not meet his eyes and Legolas thought Sulis must have said something.

Well, he decided, it was a good lesson to learn for one day they would be in the south or the East Bite and lives depended on accurate information. They were just recruits, he reminded himself. They did not know. 

‘Captain,’ he called Lagorúthon back and the captain turned his head and regarded Legolas seriously. ‘You should know, every one of them did you proud today. They have learned a lot, he added. ‘And I trusted mine and Gallichon’s life to Sulis. He did not let me down.’

Sulis blushed to roots of his hair and Geren smiled shyly, but Hannas hung his head and Legolas left it at that. he would speak to the boy later, when he himself was not so exhausted.

0o0o

0o0o


	10. Epilogue

So this is the end of this daft little tale- not anything to do with the Sons of Thunder arc but part of The Mirkwood Tales collection, which are mainly pre-LOTR and include The Hall of the Elvenking, Black Arrow and silly stuff.

Aran: roughly equivalent to Chief. In the Wood, though others refer to Thranduil as the Elvenking, in fact in my view the silvans do not really have a king in the traditional sense but more like a Chieftain, a bit like Aragorn was the Chieftain of the Dunédain.

Chapter 10 : Restoration

Thranduil had returned from fighting the spider colony in the northern Wood. It had been a hard battle, made more difficult by the fire that the villagers had started in an attempt to drive the beasts away, but it had got out of control and Thranduil had been forced to leave half the patrol back in the village to help repair the damage. 

When he heard about the rumours of a cold-drake, Thranduil turned to Gilvaren, his old friend who had come with Thranduil and Oropher over Hithaeglir long ago. ‘A cold-drake would find little of interest in these forest mountains,’ he said. ‘But Erebor is a different matter. There they gloat and boast of their wealth. One day a dragon will come.’ Gilvaren had grunted an agreement and even now, the thought haunted Thranduil in his dreaming.

But the news of the Orc attack, of Galadhon’s capture and Legolas’ rescue of Galadhon had been the talk of the stronghold.

‘The Dorwinion must have arrived,’ said Thranduil with a wry smile when he saw Galion hopping about like a long-legged frog in excitement, and Galion had been astonished and exclaimed, ‘It has!’

But then went on to tell Thranduil and Gilvaren the news about Legolas and Anglach, both of whom had acquitted themselves well. 

Gilvaren had been unsurprised and said, ‘I have served with both Anglach and Legolas in the Bite and in the Shadowed South and they are skillful and courageous. But it seems they leave their brains in their boots the moment they step over the threshold here.’

Thranduil and indeed, Galion, could only agree.

Galion had launched into the story with many embellishments and enthusiasm. He always liked to put on the voices of his characters as well so he imitated Lagorúthon's deep voice and exaggerated the strong rolling Doriath accent which the sword master had never lost. When he took Anglach’s part, he squeaked, and he adopted a louche devil-may-care voice for Legolas which was not so far from the truth.

It was a trifle unfortunate that Lagorúthon arrived right in the middle of a rather fanciful version of Legolas’ report to the commander and Anglach was also being given an exaggerated role in almost single-handedly routing the last of the orcs when in fact, Lagorúthon himself had had a significant and courageous role. Galion had been encouraged by Gilvaren’s appreciation of his story-telling and had taken it upon himself to caricature Lagorúthon’s accent and roll the rrrs to a silly extent so that Gilvaren was laughing loudly at exactly the moment Lagorúthon entered the room. Fortunately Thranduil was also in the middle of reprimanding them for their disrespect to ‘one of the Wood’s most splendid and decorated captains,’ which took some of the steam out of the Captain’s fury.

But Lagoruthón’s arrival gave Thranduil the chance to put together the full story and to hear with pride how the two silliest Elves in the Kingdom had rescued Galadhon, and had routed the orcs and led the recruits with care and kindness so they were not afraid but felt confident and discharged their duty with honor.

‘It is my view, Aran,’ said Lagorúthon, ‘that both Legolas and Anglach be returned to their full rank, and given duties according to that rank. For if they had not been in disgrace, we would be marking their deeds today with celebrations aplenty.’

Thranduil had been in agreement. It seemed a full justice then, that Anglach and Legolas should have to accept the honour quietly and in dignity, without loud proclamation and attendant swooning maidens that they would have liked to celebrate their victory. Although Thranduil was quite sure the two had already made the most of their renown with any number of swooning maidens who were quite as silly as they were.

Thranduil had retreated to his talan since the days were warm, still and peaceful. He leaned back against the blue velvet cushions that he had pulled to the edge of his talan so he could sit and look over the tops of the oaks. Purple Emperor butterflies flitted and basked on the warm wood of the talan and he took a sip of the good, rich red Dorwinion that had just been landed and was even now lying sweetly in the cellar of the stronghold in big fat barrels. Galion had thoughtfully decanted the first taste into a tall, glass decanter and left it on the talan for the King. As he sipped it, he thought that perhaps the trip to Esgaroth had not ended so badly after all, for he was certain that the Master had sought to swindle him from the outset and instead Thalos had procured a sweet trade deal with the merchants he had met at the Master’s table.

In fact, it had been a good deal for both sides and a consignment of silk had been sent downriver, avoiding Esgaroth completely. Instead of paying the unreasonable and lately increased dues in Esgaroth, the Elves had taken their huge bales of silk to the jetties that served Erebor and there loaded the silk onto the wide barges of the Men of Dorwinion. In return they had taken the fat barrels upstream. Meanwhile the dwarves, knowing a good deal when they saw it, had not charged unreasonably believing the Men of Dorwinion were benefiting at the expense of the Elves. 

Thranduil enjoyed the Dorwinion even more, thinking how cross would the Master be when he found out.

In fact, Legolas’ little escapade had merely accelerated his cutting the ties with Esgaroth…until the Master recalled how much he needed the Elves and came calling with his hat in his hand this time.

The sun was warm. A breeze lifted his hair slightly and he closed his slate-green eyes, waiting.

He didn’t have to wait long. The great oak in which his talan rested shivered slightly in welcome and Thranduil felt the light notes of his youngest’s Song leap up ahead of him; green-gold notes that lilted through the oak and beech leaves and danced over long meadow grass, pooled in the deep bowls of moss and fern and rushed along the river over the boulders smoothed by the grey water.

Sure enough, a pale gold head appeared at the entrance of the talan and long green eyes, the colour of the leaves in Spring, lifted hesitantly to meet his own.

Thranduil tutted impatiently, hating his son’s hesitation. Surely he was not so terrifying? Or so cruel?

‘Come up, Legolas,’ he said a little impatiently and his youngest pulled himself up and stood anxiously before him.

But it was true that when he was the King, he had a different role and it was as King that he had summoned Legolas now. He had already seen Anglach, who was never afraid and bounced in as if Thranduil were the sunshine to which he lifted up his arms and basked. Anglach had acquit himself well in the latest skirmish but Legolas had risked himself to rescue Galadhon. It made Thranduil terrified and proud when he had heard.

So he dropped his voice so the impatience left him and instead he opened his arms to welcome his child. ‘Come Legolas. Sit with me and tell me all that has happened.’

Legolas’ dropped beside his father and he looked down at the talan floor for a moment. He pulled at the cuffs of his sleeve nervously, a habit that Thranduil found intensely annoying but now it hurt him that he had made this youngest child of his heart so anxious. Kindly he caught the nervous fingers and stilled them.

‘I have heard how you rescued Galadhon,’ he said softly. Legolas glanced away and Thranduil frowned. ‘Why do you look away? I am proud of you,’ he said.

Legolas sighed and it seemed as if it came from the deepest part of him. ‘I was only here because I disgraced myself and you in Esgaroth,’ he said ashamed.

Thranduil raised his eyebrows at the acknowledgment for it was true of course. ‘Well, I will not shy away from that. And I am still disappointed that you let Thalos down and I do not understand how I can have, in front of me right now, both the child who did that, and the warrior who rescued his fellow officer in extreme danger?’ It was Thranduil’s turn to sigh now. ‘I did not want this conversation, Legolas. I wanted to tell you I am proud of you.’

Legolas still did not look up and Thranduil looked more closely, and listened.

He saw a young man, strong, agile, a warrior, a Woodelf with all that that entailed. His merry heart led him down many a path and not all were wise. The lightness of his spirit kept him from being dragged down into the shadow and resistant to the darkness that beguiled unwary souls, and the silliness was just dizzy youth. For he was not yet weighed down by the grief and defeat of the long years of shadow.

Thranduil smiled to himself. Legolas’ Song ran through him, the green-gold of the new beech leaves in Spring, the chuckle of the merry river running over grey slate and granite, pooling in deep green bowls of ferns and moss. Legolas’ Song danced upon the motes of sunlight that drifted through the trees.

‘You and Anglach ARE the two silliest Elves I have ever met,’ he said smiling, ‘and yet I love you both and I am proud of you for the man you are becoming. And I never want you to lose that which makes you merry. You are a Woodelf, my heart, and I rejoice in that. It is why Oropher crossed the Hithaeglir when the mayhem of the Noldor was unleashed upon the world.’

Legolas looked at him then, and there was such unbridled hope and love in his eyes that Thranduil felt his heart clench and he pulled his son towards him, cradled his head against his own shoulder and pressed a kiss upon the top of his head. ‘I always love you, Legolas. I am always proud of what you have become, even if I am cross with what you sometimes do. Your worth is more than gold to me, more precious than any jewels.’

0o0o

Suffice to say that both Anglach and Legolas were restored fully to their rank and returned to their patrol in the East Bite. It would be nice to say that the incident was never referred to again, but that would be untrue. It would also be nice to say that both had learned their lesson and were never again known as the two silliest Elves in the Realm. But that was never going to happen for there was at least one other occasion where they earned the epitaph involving thirteen dwarves and hobbit. But that’s another story.

The End.

So, the silliness for Naledi’s birthday that was supposed to be about two chapters, is finished. The other story of course, is The Halls of the Elvenking and then Black Arrow.

I have a few one-shots to write at the request of various readers and prizes for the xth comment or review on one of the 3 websites I post on… but then I am back to the Sons of Thunder arc…I miss Elrohir and Aragorn and Gimli and the Hobbits. And I have it in my head enough now to start…there are a few loose ends to sort.


End file.
